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INDIA: 

WIIAT  CAN  IT  TEACH  US? 

% Course  of  ^ertures 

DELIVERED  BEFORE  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CAMBRIDGE 

BY 

F.  MAX  MULLER,  K.M. 


TEXT  AND  FOOT-NOTES  COMPLETE. 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  AND  NOTES  BY 
PROF.  ALEXANDER  WILDER,  M.D. 


NEW  YORK : 

FUNK  & WAGNALLS,  Publishers, 
10  and  12  Dey  Street. 


NOTE  OF  THE  AMERICAN  PUBLISHERS. 


This  volume  contains  the  entire  text  of  the  English  edition,  also  all  the  foot- 
notes. Those  portions  of  the  Appendix  which  serve  to  illustrate  the  text  are  inserted 
in  their  appropriate  places  as  foot-notes  That  part  of  the  Appendix  which  is  of 
special  interest  only  to  the  Sanscrit  scholar  is  omitted. 

Professor  Max  Muller  writes  in  this  book  not  as  a theologian  but  as  a scholar, 
not  intending  either  to  attack  or  defend  Christian  theology.  His  style  is  charming, 
because  he  always  writes  with  freedom  and  animation.  In  some  passages  possibly 
his  language  might  be  misunderstood.  We  have  thought  it  best  to  add  a few 
notes.  The  notes  of  the  American  editor  are  signed  “ A.  W.;”  ours,  “ Am.  Pubs.” 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1883,  by 
FUNK  & WAGNALLS, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


DEDICATED 

TO 

E.  B.  COWELL  M.A.,  LL.D., 

PR0FES80R  OP  SANSKRIT  AND  FELLOW  OF  CORPUS  CHRISTI  COLLEGE  IN  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CAMBRIDGE. 


9 


My  dear  Cowell  : As  these  Lectures  would  never 
have  been  written  or  delivered  but  for  your  hearty 
encouragement,  I hope  you  will  now  allow  me  to  dedi- 
cate them  to  you,  not  only  as  a token  of  my  sincere 
admiration  of  your  great  achievements  as  an  Oriental 
scholar,  but  also  as  a memorial  of  our  friendship,  now 
more  than  thirty  years  old,  a friendship  which  has  grown 
from  year  to  year,  has  weathered  many  a storm,  and  will 
last,  I trust,  for  what  to  both  of  us  may  remain  of  our 
short  passage  from  shore  to  shore. 

I must  add,  however,  that  in  dedicating  these  Lectures 
to  you,  I do  not  wish  to  throw  upon  you  any  responsi- 
bility for  the  views  which  I have  put  forward  in  them. 
1 know  that  you  do  not  agree  with  some  of  my  views  on 
the  ancient  religion  and  literature  of  India,  and  I am 
well  aware  that  with  regard  to  the  recent  date  which  I 
have  assigned  to  the  whole  of  what  is  commonly  called 
the  Classical  Sanskrit  Literature,  I stand  almost  alone. 
No,  if  friendship  can  claim  any  voice  in  the  courts  of 
science  and  literature,  let  me  assure  you  that  I shall  con- 
sider your  outspoken  criticism  of  my  Lectures  as  the 
very  best  proof  of  your  true  and  honest  friendship.  I 
have  through  life  considered  it  the  greatest  honor  if  real 
scholars,  I mean  men  not  only  of  learning,  but  of  judg- 
ment and  character,  have  considered  my  writings  worthy 
of  a severe  and  searching  criticism  ; and  I have  cared  far 
more  for  the  production  of  one  single  new  fact,  though 


VI 


DEDICATION. 


it  spoke  against  me,  than  for  any  amount  of  empty 
praise  or  empty  abuse.  Sincere  d votion  to  his  studies 
and  an  unswerving  love  of  truth  ought  to  furnish  the 
true  scholar  with  an  armor  impermeable  to  flattery  or 
abuse,  and  with  a visor  that  shuts  out  no  ray  of  light, 
from  whatever  quarter  it  may  come.  More  light,  more 
truth,  more  facts,  more  combination  of  facts,  these  are 
his  quest.  And  if  in  that  quest  he  fails,  as  many  have 
failed  before  him,  he  knows  that  in  the  search  for  truth 
failures  are  sometimes  the  condition  of  victory,  and  the 
true  conquerors  often  those  whom  the  world  calls  the 
vanquished. 

You  know  better  than  anybody  else  the  present  state 
of  Sanskrit  scholarship.  You  know  that  at  present  and 
for  some  time  to  come  Sanskrit  scholarship  means  dis- 
covery and  conquest.  Every  one  of  your  own  works 
marks  a real  advance,  and  a permanent  occupation  of 
new  ground.  But  you  know  also  how  small  a strip  has 
as  yet  been  explored  of  the  vast  continent  of  Sanskrit 
literature,  and  how  much  still  remains  terra  incognita. 
No  doubt  this  exploring  work  is  troublesome,  and  often 
disappointing,  but  young  students  must  learn  the  truth 
of  a remark  lately  made  by  a distinguished  member  of 
the  Indian  Civil  Service,  whose  death  we  all  deplore, 
Dr.  Burnell,  “that  no  trouble  is  thrown  away  which 
saves  trouble  to  others.”  We  want  men  who  will  work 
bard,  even  at  the  risk  of  seeing  their  labors  unrequited  ; 
we  want  strong  and  bold  men  who  are  not  afraid  of 
storms  and  shipwrecks.  The  worst  sailors  are  not  those 
who  suffer  shipwreck,  but  those  who  only  dabble  in  pud- 
dles and  are  afraid  of  wetting  their  feet. 

It  is  easy  now  to  criticise  the  labors  of  Sir  William 
Jones,  Thomas  Oolebrooke,  and  Horace  Hayman  Wilson, 
but  what  would  have  become  of  Sanskrit  scholarship  if 


DEDICATION'. 


Vll 


they  had  not  rushed  in  where  even  now  so  many  fear  to 
tread  ? and  what  will  become  of  Sanskrit  scholarship  if 
their  conquests  are  forever  to  mark  the  limits  of  our 
knowledge  ? You  know  best  that  there  is  more  to  be 
discovered  in  Sanskrit  literature  than  Xalas  and  Aakun- 
talas,  and  surely  the  young  men  who  every  year  go  out 
to  India  are  not  deficient  in  the  spirit  of  enterprise,  or 
even  of  adventure  ? Why,  then,  should  it  be  said  that 
the  race  of  bold  explorers,  who  once  rendered  the  name 
of  the  Indian  Civil  Service  illustrious  over  the  whole 
world,  has  well-nigh  become  extinct,  and  that  England, 
which  offers  the  strongest  incentives  and  the  most  brill- 
iant opportunities  for  the  study  of  the  ancient  language, 
literature,  and  history  of  India,  is  no  longer  in  the  van 
of  Sanskrit  scholarship  ? 

If  some  of  the  young  candidates  for  the  Indian  Civil 
Service  who  listened  to  my  Lectures,  quietly  made  up 
their  minds  that  such  a reproach  shall  be  wiped  out,  if  a 
few  of  them  at  least  determined  to  follow  in  the  foot- 
steps of  Sir  William  Jones,  and  to  show  to  the  world 
that  Englishmen  who  have  been  able  to  achieve  by 
pluck,  by  perseverance,  and  by  real  political  genius  the 
material  conquest  of  India,  do  not  mean  to  leave  the 
laurels  of  its  intellectual  conquest  entirely  to  other  coun- 
tries, then  I shall  indeed  rejoice,  and  feel  that  I have 
paid  back,  in  however  small  a degree,  the  large  debt  of 
gratitude  which  I owe  to  my  adopted  country  and  to 
some  of  its  greatest  statesmen,  who  have  given  me  the 
opportunity  which  I could  find  nowhere  else  of  realizing 
the  dreams  of  my  life — the  publication  of  the  text  and 
commentary  of  the  Rig- Veda,  the  most  ancient  book  of 
Sanskrit,  aye  of  Aryan  literature,  and  now  the  edition  of 
the  translations  of  the  “ Sacred  Books  of  the  East.” 

I have  left  my  Lectures  very  much  as  I delivered 


yin 


DEDICATION. 


them  at  Cambridge.  I am  fond  of  the  form  of  Lect- 
ures, because  it  seems  to  me  tbe  most  natural  form 
which  in  our  age  didactic  composition  ought  to  take. 
As  in  ancient  Greece  the  dialogue  reflected  most  truly 
the  intellectual  life  of  the  people,  and  as  in  the  Middle 
Ages  learned  literature  naturally  assumed  with  the  re- 
cluse in  his  monastic  cell  the  form  of  a long  monologue, 
so  with  us  the  lecture  places  the  writer  most  readily  in 
that  position  in  which  he  is  accustomed  to  deal  with  his 
fellow-men,  and  to  communicate  his  knowledge  to 
others.  It  has  no  doubt  certain  disadvantages.  In  a 
lecture  which  is  meant  to  he  didactic,  we  have,  for  the 
sake  of  completeness,  to  say  and  to  repeat  certain  things 
which  must  he  familiar  to  some  of  our  readers,  while  we 
are  also  forced  to  leave  out  information  which,  even  in 
its  imperfect  form,  we  should  probably  not  hesitate  to 
submit  to  our  fellow-students,  but  which  we  feel  we 
have  not  yet  sufficiently  mastered  and  matured  to  enable 
us  to  place  it  clearly  and  simply  before  a larger  public. 

But  the  advantages  outweigh  the  disadvantages.  A 
lecture,  by  keeping  a critical  audience  constantly  before 
our  eyes,  forces  us  to  condense  our  subject,  to  discrimi- 
nate between  what  is  important  and  what  is  not,  and 
often  to  deny  ourselves  the  pleasure  of  displaying  what 
may  have  cost  us  the  greatest  labor,  but  is  of  little  con- 
sequence to  other  scholars.  In  lecturing  we  are  con- 
stantly reminded  of  what  students  are  so  apt  to  forget, 
that  their  knowledge  is  meant  not  for  themselves  only, 
but  for  others,  and  that  to  know  well  means  to  be  able 
to  teach  well.  I confess  I can  never  write  unless  I 
think  of  somebody  for  whom  I write,  and  I should  never 
wish  for  a better  audience  to  have  before  my  mind  than 
the  learned,  brilliant,  and  kind-hearted  assembly  by 
which  I was  greeted  in  your  University, 


bEDidAfiosr. 


ix 

Still  I must  confess  that  I did  not  succeed  in  bringing 
all  I wished  to  say,  and  more  particularly  the  evidence 
on  which  some  of  my  statements  rested,  up  to  the  higher 
level  of  a lecture  ; and  I have  therefore  added  a number 
of  notes  containing  the  less-organized  matter  which  re- 
sisted as  yet  that  treatment  which  is  necessary  before  our 
studies  can  realize  their  highest  purpose,  that  of  feeding, 
invigorating,  and  inspiriting  the  minds  of  others. 

Yours  affectionately, 

F.  MAX  MULLER. 

Oxfoed,  December,  1882. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Dedication-, iii 

Introduction-, xiii 

Lecture  I.  What  Can  India  Teach  us  ? . . 19 

“ II.  On  the  Truthful  Character 

of  the  Hindus,  . . . .52 

“ III.  The  Human  Interest  of  San- 
skrit Literature,  . . .95 

“ IV.  Objections, 135 

. “ V.  The  Lessons  of  the  Veda,  . . 161 

“ VI.  Vedic  Deities, 195 

“ VII.  Veda  and  Vedanta,  . . . 221 


INTRODUCTION. 


Professor  Max  Muller  lias  been  so  long  and  widely 
known  in  the  world  of  letters  as  to  render  any  formal 
introduction  unnecessary.  He  has  been  from  his  early 
youth  an  assiduous  student  of  philology,  justly  regarding 
it  as  an  important  key  to  history  and  an  invaluable  aux- 
iliary to  intellectual  progress.  A glance  at  his  personal 
career  will  show  the  ground  upon  which  his  reputation  is 
established. 

Friedrich  Maximilian  Muller,  the  son  of  Wilhelm 
Muller,  the  Saxon  poet,  was  born  at  Dessau,  December 
6th,  1823.  He  matriculated  at  Leipzig  in  his  eighteenth 
year,  giving  his  principal  attention  to  classical  philology, 
and  receiving  his  degree  in  1843.  He  immediately  be- 
gan a course  of  Oriental  studies,  chiefly  Sanskrit,  under 
the  supervision  of  Professor  Brockhaus,  and  in  1844 
engaged  in  his  translation  of  the  “ Hitopadesa.”  He 
removed  from  Leipzig  to  Berlin,  and  attended  the  lectures 
of  Bopp,  Rucker,  and  Sclielling.  The  next  year  he  went 
to  Paris  to  listen  to  Eugene  Burnouf  at  the  College  de 
France.  He  now  began  the  collecting  of  material  for 
his  great  quarto  edition  of  the  “ Rig-Veda  Sanhita”  and 
the  “Commentary  of  S&ganadrdnja. ” He  visited  Eng- 
land for  this  purpose  to  examine  the  manuscripts  in  the 
Bodleian  Library  and  at  the  Indian  House.  At  the 
recommendation  of  H.  IL.  Wilson,  the  Orientalist,  he 
was  commissioned  by  the  Last  India  Company  to  publish 


XIV 


INTRODUCTION. 


liis  edition  in  England  at  their  expense.  The  first  vol- 
ume appeared  in  1849,  and  five  others  followed  during 
the  next  few  years. 

In  1850  he  delivered  a course  of  “ Lectures  on  Com- 
parative Philology”  at  Oxford,  and  the  next  year  was 
made  member  of  Christ  Church,  curator,  etc.,  and  ap- 
pointed Taylorian  Professor  of  Modern  European  Lan- 
guages and  Literature.  He  received  also  numerous 
other  marks  of  distinction  from  universities,  and  was 
made  one  of  the  eight  foreign  members  of  the  Institute 
of  France.  The  Yolney  prize  was  awarded  him  by  the 
French  Academy  for  his  “ Essay  on  the  Comparative 
Philology  of  Indo-European  Languages  and  its  Bearing 
on  the  Early  Civilization  of  Mankind.” 

His  writings  have  been  numerous.  Besides  editing 
the  translations  of  the  “ Sacred  Books  of  the  Principal 
Religions,”  he  has  published  a “ Handbook  for  the  Study 
of  Sanskrit,”  a “ Sanskrit-English  Dictionary  and  Gram- 
mar,” “ Lectures  upon  the  Science  of  Language,”  “ An 
Introduction  to  the  Science  of  Religion,”  “ Essays  on 
Mythology,”  “ Chips  from  a German  Workshop,”  etc. 
He  seems  to  have  no  intermission,  but  penetrates  where 
others  would  not  have  ventured,  or  have  faltered  from 
utter  weariness.  In  the  field  of  philology  he  has  few 
peers,  while  in  early  Sanskrit  learning  he  has  virtually 
taken  the  part  of  an  innovator.  While  reverently  fol- 
lowing after  Sir  William  Jones,  Colebrooke,  Windisch- 
mann,  Bopp,  and  others  of  equal  distinction,  besets  aside 
the  received  views  in  regard  to  chronology  and  historical 
occurrences.  The  era  of  Vikramaditya  and  the  Golden 
Age  of  Sanskrit  literature,  bearing  a date  almost  simul- 
taneous with  the  Augustan  period  at  the  West,  are  post- 
poned by  him  to  a later  century.  It  may  be  that  he  has 
overlooked  some  canon  of  interpretation  that  would  have 


INTRODUCTION. 


XV 


modified  his  results.  Those,  however,  who  hesitate  to 
accept  his  conclusions  freely  acknowledge  his  scholarly 
enthusiasm,  persistent  energy,  and  great  erudition. 

Sanskrit  in  his  judgment  constitutes  an  essential  ele- 
ment of  a liberal  education.  While  heartily  admiring 
the  employment  of  some  of  the  best  talent  and  noblest 
genius  of  our  age  in  the  study  of  development  in  the 
outward  world,  from  the  first  growth  of  the  earth  and  the 
beginning  of  organic  life  to  the  highest  stages,  he  pleads 
earnestly  that  there  is  an  inward  and  intellectual  world 
also  to  be  studied  in  its  historical  development  in  strict 
analogy  with  the  other,  leading  up  to  the  beginning  of 
rational  thought  in  its  steady  progress  from  the  lowest  to 
the  highest  stages.  In  that  study  of  the  history  of  the 
human  mind,  in  that  study  of  ourselves,  our  true  selves, 
India  occupies  a place  which  is  second  to  no  other  coun- 
try. Whatever  sphere  of  the  human  mind  may  be 
selected  for  special  study,  whether  language,  religion, 
mythology,  or  philosophy,  whether  laws,  customs,  prim- 
itive art  or  primitive  science,  we  must  go  to  India,  lie- 
cause  some  of  the  most  valuable  and  most  instructive 
materials  in  the  history  of  man  are  treasured  up  there, 
and  there  only.  He  inveighs  most  eloquently  against 
the  narrowing  of  our  horizon  to  the  history  of  Greeks 
and  Romans,  Saxons  and  Celts,  with  a dim  background 
of  Palestine,  Egypt,  and  Babylon,  leaving  out  of  sight 
our  nearest  intellectual  relatives,  the  Aryans  of  India,  the 
framers  of  that  most  wonderful  language  the  Sanskrit, 
the  fellow-workers  in  the  construction  of  our  funda- 
mental concepts,  the  fathers  of  the  most  natural  of  natu- 
ral religions,  the  makers  of  the  most  transparent  of 
mythologies,  the  inventors  of  the  most  subtle  philosophy, 
and  the  givers  of  the  most  elaborate  laws.  It  is  the  pur- 
pose of  historical  study  to  enable  each  generation  to 


XVI 


INTRODUCTION. 


profit  from  the  experience  of  those  who  came  before, 
and  advance  toward  1 uglier  aims,  without  being  obliged 
to  start  anew  from  the  same  point  as  its  ancestors  after 
the  manner  of  every  race  of  brutes.  He  who  knows 
little  of  those  who  preceded  is  very  likely  to  care  little 
for  those  coming  after.  “ Life  would  be  to  him  a chain 
of  sand,  while  it  ought  to  be  a kind  of  electric  chain  that 
makes  our  hearts  tremble  and  vibrate  with  the  most 
ancient  thoughts  of  the  Past,  as  well  as  with  the  most 
distant  hopes  of  the  Future.” 

In  no  just  sense  is  this  an  exaggeration.  Deep  as  sci- 
ence and  research  have  explored,  extensive  as  is  the  field 
which  genius  and  art  have  occupied,  they  have  an  Her- 
culean labor  yet  to  perform  before  India  will  have  yield- 
ed up  all  her  opulence  of  learning.  The  literature  of 
the  world  in  all  ages  has  been  richly  furnished,  if  not 
actually  inspired,  from  that  fountain.  The  Wisdom  of 
the  Ancients,  so  much  lauded  in  the  earlier  writings  of 
Hebrews,  Greeks,  and  Phoenicians,  was  abundantly  rep- 
resented in  the  lore  of  these  Wise  Men  of  the  East. 

The  first  Ionian  sages  lighted  the  torch  of  philosophy 
at  the  altar  of  Zoroaster.  The  conquest  of  Asia  Minor 
by  the  Persians  brought  Thales,  Anaximenes,  and  Hera- 
kleitos  into  contact  with  the  Eranian  dogmas.  The 
leaven  thus  imparted  had  a potent  influence  upon  the 
entire  mass  of  Grecian  thought.  We  find  it  easy  to 
trace  its  action  upon  opinions  in  later  periods  and  among 
the  newer  nations.  Kant,  Ilegel,  Stewart,  and  Hamilton, 
as  well  as  Plato,  Zeno,  and  Aristotle,  had  their  prototypes 
in  the  world  and  antiquity  beyond.  Even  the  first  Zara- 
tliustra  was  an  exponent  and  not  the  originator  of  the 
Religion  and  Science  of  Light.  We  are  thus  carried  by 
this  route  back  to  the  ancient  Aryan  Home  for  the 
sources  from  which  so  many  golden  streams  have  issued. 


INTRODUCTION. 


XVII 


In  the  Sanskrit  books  and  mantras  we  must  look  for  the 
treasures  that  make  human  souls  rich.  Perhaps  we 
have  been  too  much  disposed  to  regard  that  former  world 
as  a wonderland,  a repertory  of  folk-lore,  or  a theatre 
of  gross  and  revolting  superstition.  We  are  now 
required  by  candor  and  justice  to  revise  such  notions. 
These  primeval  peoples,  in  their  way  and  in  a language 
akin  to  ours,  adored  the  Father  in  heaven,  and  contem- 
plated the  future  of  the  soul  with  a sure  and  certain 
hope. 

Nor  did  they,  while  observing  the  myriads  of  races  in- 
tervening between  man  and  the  monad,  regard  the  world 
beyond  as  waste  and  void.  Intelligences  of  every  grade 
were  believed  to  people  the  region  between  mortals  and 
the  Infinite.  The  angels  and  archangels,  and  the  spirits 
of  the  just  made  perfect — devas  and  pitris  they  called 
them — ministered  about  the  throne  of  the  Supreme  Be- 
ing, and  abode  in  the  various  spheres  of  universal  space. 
Much  of  the  difference  between  our  thought  and  theirs 
consists  in  the  names  and  not  in  the  substance  of  our 
beliefs. 

We  may  thus  be  prepared  to  receive  what  India  can 
teach  us.  In  her  classic  dialect,  the  Sanskrit,  we  may 
read  with  what  success  the  children  of  the  men  who 
journeyed  from  the  ancient  Aryan  Home  into  the  Pun- 
jab and  Aryavartta  have  ventured  “ to  look  inward  upon 
themselves,  upward  to  something  not  themselves,  and  to 
see  whether  they  could  not  understand  a little  of  the 
true  purport  of  that  mystery  which  we  call  life  upon 
earth.”  It  was  perfectly  natural,  as  well  as  perfectly 
right,  that  as  the  beholder  caught  a glance  of  the  Infinite 
Beyond,  the  imago  impressed  itself  upon  his  sensorium, 
as  would  be  the  case  from  looking  at  the  sun,  and  he 
would  as  a result  perceive  that  Infinite  in  all  that  he 


XY111 


INTRODUCTION. 


looked  upon.  Thus  to  the  Sanskrit-speaking  Aryan,  as 
to  the  enlightened  mind  of  to-day,  not  to  see  it  was  utter 
blindness.  What  we  call  science,  law,  morality,  relig- 
ion, was  in  his  view  pervaded  alike  throughout  by  this 
concept  of  Divine  presence,  or  else  it  would  have  been 
less  than  a dream  that  had  not  come  to  the  awaking. 
He  was  a follower  of  the  light,  not  from  the  senses  or  the 
logical  understanding,  but  from  the  eternal  world.  Let 
us  not  dwell  on  any  darker  shade  of  the  picture.  Clouds 
are  dark  to  those  who  are  beneath  them  ; but  on  the 
upper  side,  where  the  sun  shines,  they  glow  with  golden 
splendor.  Let  us  be  willing  to  contemplate  India  fra- 
ternally, and  upon  that  side  where  the  radiance  of  the 
Divine  sheds  a refulgent  illumination. 

ALEXANDER  WILDER. 


Newakk,  N.  J.,  May  14th,  1883. 


4 * 

INDIA. 

LECTUKE  I. 

WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 

When  1 received  from  the  Board  of  Historical  Studies 
at  Cambridge  the  invitation  to  deliver  a course  of 
lectures,  specially  intended  for  the  candidates  for  fhe 
Indian  Civil  Service,  I hesitated  for  some  time,  feeling 
extremely  doubtful  whether  in  a few  public  discourses  I 
could  say  anything  that  would  be  of  real  use  to  them  in 
passing  their  examinations.  To  enable  young  men  to 
pass  their  examinations  seems  now  to  have  become  the 
chief,  if  not  the  only  object  of  the  universities  ; and  to 
no  class  of  students  is  it  of  greater  importance  to  pass 
their  examinations,  and  to  pass  them  well,  than  to  the 
candidates  for  the  Indian  Civil  Service. 

But  although  I was  afraid  that  attendance  on  a few 
public  lectures,  such  as  I could  give,  would  hardly  bene- 
fit a candidate  who  was  not  already  fully  prepared  to 
pass  through  the  fiery  ordeal  of  the  three  London  ex- 
aminations, I coidd  not  on  the  other  hand  shut  my  eyes 
completely  to  the  fact  that,  after  all,  universities  were 
not  meant  entirely,  or  even  chiefly,  as  stepping-stones  to 
an  examination,  but  that  there  is  something  else  which 
universities  can  teach  and  ought  to  teach — nay,  which  I 
feel  quite  sure  they  were  originally  meant  to  teach— 


20 


LECTURE  I. 


something  that  may  not  have  a marketable  value  before 
a Board  of  Examiners,  but  which  has  a permanent  value 
for  the  whole  of  our  life,  and  that  is  a real  interest  in 
our  work,  and,  more  than  that,  a love  of  our  work,  and, 
more  than  that,  a true  joy  and  happiness  in  our  work. 
If  a university  can  teach  that,  if  it  can  engraft  that  one 
small  living  germ  in  the  minds  of  the  young  men  who 
come  here  to  study  and  to  prepare  themselves  for  the 
battle  of  life,  and,  for  what  is  still  more  difficult  to  en- 
counter, the  daily  dull  drudgery  of  life,  then,  I feel 
convinced,  a university  has  done  more,  and  conferred  a 
more  lasting  benefit  on  its  pupils  than  by  helping  them 
to  pass  the  most  difficult  examinations,  and  to  take  the 
highest  place  among  Senior  Wranglers  or  First-Class 
men. 

Unfortunately,  that  kind  of  work  which  is  now 
required  for  passing  one  examination  after  another,  that 
process  of  cramming  and  crowding  which  has  of  late 
been  brought  to  the  highest  pitch  of  perfection,  has 
often  the  very  opposite  effect,  and  instead  of  exciting  an 
appetite  for  work,  it  is  apt  to  produce  an  indifference, 
if  not  a kind  of  intellectual  nausea,  that  may  last  for 
life. 

And  nowhere  is  this  so  much  to  be  feared  as  in  the 
case  of  candidates  for  the  Indian  Civil  Service.  After 
they  have  passed  their  first  examination  for  admission  to 
the  Indian  Civil  Service,  and  given  proof  that  they  have 
received  the  benefits  of  a liberal  education,  and 
acquired  that  general  information  in  classics,  history, 
and  mathematics,  which  is  provided  at  our  public 
schools,  and  forms  no  doubt  the  best  and  surest  founda- 
tion for  all  more  special  and  professional  studies  in  later 
life,  they  suddenly  find  themselves  torn  away  from  their 
old  studies  and  their  old  friends,  and  compelled  to  take 


WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 


21 


up  new  subjects  which  to  many  of  them  seem  strange, 
outlandish,  if  not  repulsive.  Strange  alphabets,  strange 
languages,  strange  names,  strange  literatures  and  laws 
have  to  be  faced,  “ to  be  got  up”  as  it  is  called,  not  from 
choice,  but  from  dire  necessity.  The  whole  course  of 
study  during  two  years  is  determined  for  them,  the  sub- 
jects fixed,  the  books  prescribed,  the  examinations  regu- 
lated, and  there  is  no  time  to  look  either  right  or  left,  if 
a candidate  wishes  to  make  sure  of  taking  each  succes- 
sive fence  in  good  style,  and  without  an  accident. 

I know  quite  well  that  this  cannot  be  helped.  I am 
not  speaking  against  the  system  of  examinations  in  gen- 
eral, if  only  they  are  intelligently  conducted  ; nay,  as 
an  old  examiner  myself,  I feel  bound  to  say  that  the 
amount  of  knowledge  produced  ready-made  at  these  ex- 
aminations is  to  my  mind  perfectly  astounding.  But 
while  the  answers  are  there  on  paper,  strings  of  dates, 
lists  of  royal  names  and  battles,  irregular  verbs,  statisti- 
cal figures  and  whatever  else  you  like,  how  seldom  do  we 
find  that  the  heart  of  the  candidates  is  in  the  work  which 
they  have  to  do.  The  results  produced  are  certainly 
most  ample  and  voluminous,  but  they  rarely  contain  a 
spark  of  original  thought,  or  even  a clever  mistake.  It  is 
work  done  from  necessity,  or,  let  us  be  just,  from  a sense 
of  duty,  but  it  is  seldom,  or  hardly  ever,  a labor  of  love. 

Now  why  should  that  be  ? Why  should  a study  of 
Greek  or  Latin — of  the  poetry,  the  philosophy,  the  laws 
and  the  art  of  Greece  and  Italy — seem  congenial  to  us, 
why  should  it  excite  even  a certain  enthusiasm,  and  com- 
mand general  respect,  while  a study  of  Sanskrit,  and  of 
the  ancient  poetry,  the  philosophy,  the  laws,  and  the  art 
of  India  is  looked  upon,  in  the  best  case,  as  curious,  but 
is  considered  by  most  people  as  useless,  tedious,  if  not 
absurd  ? 


22 


Lecture  f. 


And,  strange  to  say,  this  feeling  exists  in  England 
more  than  in  any  other  country.  In  France,  Germany, 
and  Italy,  even  in  Denmark,  Sweden,  and  Russia,  there 
is  a vague  charm  connected  with  the  name  of  India. 
One  of  the  most  beautiful  poems  in  the  German  lan- 
guage is  the  Weisheit  der  Brahmanen , the  “ Wisdom  of 
the  Brahmans,”  by  Riickert,  to  my  mind  more  rich  in 
thought  and  more  perfect  in  form  than  even  Goethe’s 
I Yest-ostlicher  Divan.  A scholar  who  studies  Sanskrit 
in  Germany  is  supposed  to  be  initiated  in  the  deep  and 
dark  mysteries  of  ancient  wisdom,  and  a man  who  has 
travelled  in  India,  even  if  he  has  only  discovered  Cal- 
cutta, or  Bombay,  or  Madras,  is  listened  to  like  another 
Marco  Polo.  In  England  a student  of  Sanskrit  is  gen- 
erally considered  a bore,  and  an  old  Indian  civil  servant, 
if  he  begins  to  describe  the  marvels  of  Eleplianta  or  the 
Towers  of  Silence,  runs  the  risk  of  producing  a count- 
out. 

There  are  indeed  a few  Oriental  scholars  whose  works 
are  read,  and  who  have  accjuired  a certain  celebrity  in 
England,  because  they  were  really  men  of  uncommon 
genius,  and  would  have  ranked  among  the  great  glories 
of  the  country,  but  for  the  misfortune  that  their  energies 
were  devoted  to  Indian  literature — I mean  Sir  William 
Jones,  “one  of  the  most  enlightened  of  the  sons  of 
men,”  as  Dr.  Johnson  called  him,  and  Thomas  Cole- 
brooke.  But  the  names  of  others  who  have  done  good 
work  in  their  day  also,  men  such  as  Ballantyne,  Buchan- 
an, Carey,  Crawfurd,  Davis,  Elliot,  Ellis,  Houghton, 
Leyden,  Mackenzie,  Marsden,  Muir,  Prinsep,  Rennell, 
Tumour,  Upham,  Wallicli,  Warren,  Wilkins,  Wilson, 
and  many  other’s,  are  hardly  known  beyond  the  small 
circle  of  Oriental  scholars  ; and  their  works  are  looked 
for  in  vain  in  libraries  which  profess  to  represent  with  a 


WHAT  CAST  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 


23 


certain  completeness  the  principal  branches  of  scholar- 
ship and  science  in  England. 

How  many  times,  when  I advised  young  men,  candi- 
dates for  the  Indian  Civil  Service,  to  devote  themselves 
before  all  things  to  a study  of  Sanskrit,  have  I been  told, 
“ What  is  the  nse  of  onr  studying  Sanskrit  ? There  are 
translations  of  /Sakuntala,  Mann,  and  the  Hitopadesa, 
and  what  else  is  there  in  that  literature  that  is  worth 
reading  ? Kalidasa  may  be  very  pretty,  and  the  Laws 
of  Manu  are  very  curious,  and  the  fables  of  the  Ilitopa- 
desa  are  very  cpiaint  ; but  you  would  not  compare  San- 
skrit literature  with  Greek,  or  recommend  us  to  waste 
our  time  in  copying  and  editing  Sanskrit  texts  which 
either  teach  us  nothing  that  we  do  not  know  already,  or 
teach  us  something  which  we  do  not  care  to  know  ?” 

This  seems  to  me  a most  unhappy  misconception,  and 
it  will  be  the  chief  object  of  my  lectures  to  try  to  remove 
it,  or  at  all  events  to  modify  it,  as  much  as  possible.  I 
shall  not  attempt  to  prove  that  Sanskrit  literature  is  as 
good  as  Greek  literature.  Why  should  we  always  com- 
pare ? A study  of  Greek  literature  has  its  own  purpose, 
and  a study  of  Sanskrit  literature  has  its  own  purpose  ; 
but  what  I feel  convinced  of,  and  hope  to  convince  you 
of,  is  that  Sanskrit  literature,  if  studied  only  in  a right 
spirit,  is  full  of  human  interests,  full  of  lessons  which 
even  Greek  could  never  teach  us,  a subject  worthy  to 
occupy  the  leisure,  and  more  than  the  leisure,  of  every 
Indian  civil  servant  ; and  certainly  the  best  means  of 
making  any  young  man  who  has  to  spend  five-and- 
twenty  years  of  his  life  in  India,  feel  at  home  among 
the  Indians,  as  a fellow -worker  among  fellow-workers, 
and  not  as  an  alien  among  aliens.  There  will  be  abun- 
dance of  useful  and  most  interesting  work  for  him  to  do, 
if  only  he  cares  to  do  it,  work  such  as  he  would  look  for 


24 


LECTURE  I. 


in  vain,  whether  in  Italy  or  in  Greece,  or  even  among 
the  pyramids  of  Egypt  or  the  palaces  of  Babylon. 

You  will  now  understand  why  I have  chosen  as  the 
title  of  my  lectures,  “ What  can  India  teach  us  ?”  True, 
there  are  many  things  which  India  has  to  learn  from 
us  ; but  there  are  other  things,  and,  in  one  sense,  very 
important  things,  which  we  too  may  learn  from  India. 

If  I were  to  look  over  the  whole  world  to  find  out  the 
country  most  richly  endowed  with  all  the  wealth,  power, 
and  beauty  that  nature  can  bestow — in  some  parts  a 
very  paradise  on  earth — I should  point  to  India.  If  I 
were  asked  under  what  sky  the  human  mind  has  most 
full  developed  some  of  its  choicest  gifts,  has  most  deeply 
pondered  on  the  greatest  problems  of  life,  and  has  found 
solutions  of  some  of  them  which  well  deserve  the  atten- 
tion even  of  those  who  have  studied  Plato  and  Ivant — I 
should  point  to  India.  And  if  1 were  to  ask  myself 
from  what  literature  we,  here  in  Europe,  we  who  have 
been  nurtured  almost  exclusively  on  the  thoughts  of 
Greeks  and  Homans,  and  of  one  Semitic  race,  the  Jew- 
ish, may  draw  that  corrective  which  is  most  wanted  in 
order  to  make  our  inner  life  more  perfect,  more  com- 
prehensive, more  universal,  in  fact  more  truly  human,  a 
life,  not  for  this  life  only,  but  a transfigured  and  eternal 
life — again  1 should  point  to  India. 

I know  you  will  be  surprised  to  hear  me  say  this.  I 
know  that  more  particularly  those  who  have  spent  many 
years  of  active  life  in  Calcutta,  or  Bombay,  or  Madras, 
will  be  horror-struck  at  the  idea  that  the  humanity  they 
meet  with  there,  whether  in  the  bazaars  or  in  the  courts  of 
justice,  or  in  so-called  native  society,  should  be  able  to 
teach  us  any  lessons. 

Let  me  therefore  explain  at  once  to  my  friends  who 
may  have  lived  in  India  for  years,  as  civil  servants,  or 


WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACII  US? 


25 


officers,  or  missionaries,  or  merchants,  and  who  ought  to 
know  a great  deal  more  of  that  country  than  one  who 
lias  never  set  foot  on  the  soil  of  Aryavarta,  that  we  are 
speaking  of  two  very  different  Indias.  I am  thinking 
chiefly  of  India  such  as  it  was  a thousand,  two  thou- 
sand, it  may  be  three  thousand  years  ago  ; they  think  of 
the  India  of  to-day.  And  again,  when  thinking  of  the 
India  of  to-day,  they  remember  chiefly  the  India  of  Cal- 
cutta, Bombay,  or  Madras,  the  India  of  the  towns.  I 
iook  to  the  India  of  the  village  communities,  the  true 
India  of  the  Indians. 

What  I wish  to  show  to  you,  I mean  more  especially 
the  candidates  for  the  Indian  Civil  Service,  is  that  this 
India  of  a thousand,  or  two  thousand,  or  three  thousand 
years  ago,  ay  the  India  of  to-day  also,  if  only  you  know 
where  to  look  for  it,  is  full  of  problems  the  solution  of 
which  concerns  all  of  us,  even  us  in  this  Europe  of  the 
nineteenth  century. 

If  you  have  acquired  any  special  tastes  here  in  England, 
you  will  find  plenty  to  satisfy  them  in  India  ; and  who- 
ever has  learned  to  take  an  interest  in  any  of  the  great 
problems  that  occupy  the  best  thinkers  and  workers  at 
home,  need  certainly ‘not  be  afraid  of  India  proving  to 
him  an  intellectual  exile. 

If  you  care  for  geology,  there  is  work  for  you  from 
the  Himalayas  to  Ceylon. 

If  you  are  fond  of  botany,  there  is  a flora  rich  enough 
for  many  Hookers. 

If  you  are  a zoologist,  think  of  Haeckel,  who  is  just 
now  rushing  through  Indian  forests  and  dredging  in 
Indian -seas,  and  to  whom  his  stay  in  India  is  like  the 
realization  of  the  brightest  dream  of  his  life. 

If  you  are  interested  in  ethnology,  why  India  is  like  a 
living  ethnological  museum. 


20 


LECTURE  I. 


If  you  are  fond  of  archaeology,  if  you  have  ever 
assisted  at  the  opening  of  a barrow  in  England,  and  know 
the  delight  of  finding  a fibula,  or  a lcnife,  or  a flint  in  a 
heap  of  rubbish,  read  only  General  Cunningham’s  “ An- 
nual Reports  of  the  Archaeological  Survey  of  India,” 
and  you  will  be  impatient  for  the  time  when  you  can 
take  your  spade  and  bring  to  light  the  ancient  Vilniras 
or  colleges  built  by  the  Buddhist  monarchs  of  India. 

If  ever  you  amused  yourselves  with  collecting  coins, 
why  the  soil  of  India  teems  with  coins,  Persian,  Cari- 
an,  Thracian,  Parthian,  Greek,  Macedonian,  Scythian, 
Roman,*  and  Mohammedan.  When  Warren  Hastings 
was  Govern  or- General,  an  earthen  pot  was  found  on  the 
bank  of  a river  in  the  province  of  Benares,  containing  one 
hundred  and  seventy-two  gold  darics.f  Warren  Has- 
tings considered  himself  as  making  the  most  munificent 
present  to  his  masters  that  he  might  ever  have  it  in  his 
power  to  send  them,  by  presenting  those  ancient  coins 
to  the  Court  of  Directors.  The  story  is  that  they  were 
sent  to  the  melting-pot.  At  all  events  they  had  disap- 
peared when  Warren  Hastings  returned  to  England.  It 
rests  with  you  to  prevent  the  revival  of  such  vandal- 
ism. 

In  one  of  the  last  numbers  of  the  Asiatic  Journal  of 
Bengal  you  may  read  of  the  discovery  of  a treasure  as 
rich  in  gold  almost  as  some  of  the  tombs  opened  by  Dr. 
Schliemann  at  Mvkente,  nay,  I should  add,  perhaps,  not 
quite  unconnected  with  some  of  the  treasures  found  at 

* Pliny  (VI.  26)  tells  ns  that  in  his  day  the  annual  drain  of  bullion 
into  India,  in  return  for  her  valuable  produce,  reached  the  immense 
amount  of  “five  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  sesterces.”  See 
E.  Thomas,  “ The  Indian  Balhara,”  p.  13. 

f Cunningham,  in  the  “Journal  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Bengal,” 
1881,  p.  184. 


WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 


27 


My  kerne  ; yet  hardly  any  one  has  taken  notice  of  it  in 
England  !* 

The  study  of  Mythology  has  assumed  an  entirely  new 
character,  chiefly  owing  to  the  light  that  has  been 
thrown  on  it  by  the  ancient  Yedic  Mythology  of  India. 
Bnt  though  the  foundation  of  a true  Science  of  Mythol- 
ogy has  been  laid,  all  the  detail  has  still  to  be  worked 
out,  and  could  be  worked  out  nowhere  better  than  in 
India. 

Even  the  study  of  fables  owes  its  new  life  to  India, 
from  whence  the  various  migrations  of  fables  have  been 
traced  at  various  times  and  through  various  channels  from 
East  to  .West. f Buddhism  is  now  known  to  have  been 
the  principal  source  of  our  legends  and  parables.  But 
here,  too,  many  problems  still  wait  for  their  solution. 
Think,  for  instance,  of  the  allusion  to  the  fable  of  the 
donkey  in  the  lion’s  skin,  which  occurs  in  Plato’s  Craty- 
lus4  Was  that  borrowed  from  the  East  ? Or  take  the 


* General  Cunningham  describes  this  treasure  in  the  “Journal  of 
the  Asiatic  Society  of  Bengal”  as  having  been  found  on  the  northern 
bank  of  the  Oxus  in  1877,  and  containing  coins  from  Darius  down  to 
Antiochus  the  Great,  and  Euthydemus,  King  of  Baktria.  This  would 
seem  to  indicate  that  it  had  been  buried  there  in  208  b.c.,  when 
Baktria  was  invaded  by  Antiochus  and  Euthydemus  defeated.  The 
coins,  figures,  and  ornaments,  many  of  them,  were  manifestly  Persian, 
and  doubtless  had  been  brought  into  that  country  and  kept  by  the 
victorious  generals  of  Alexander.  Some  of  the  works  of  art  unearthed 
by  Dr.  Schliemann  at  Mykenne  are  either  Persian  or  Assyrian  in 
character,  and  are  like  those  found  on  the  Oxus.  Professor  Forch- 
hammer  very  plausibly  supposes  that  they  were  spoils  from  the 
Persian  camp  which  had  been  awarded  to  Mykenoe  as  her  share  after 
the  overthrow  of  Mardonius.— A.  W. 

t See“  Selected  Essays,”  vol.  i.,  p.  500,  “The  Migration  of  Fables.” 
f Cratylus,  411  A.  “ Still,  as  I have  put  on  the  lion’s  skin,  I must 
not  be  faint-hearted.”  Possibly,  however,  this  may  refer  to  Hercules, 
and  not  to  the  fable  of  the  donkey  in  the  lion’s  or  the  tiger’s  skin. 


28 


LECTURE  I. 


fable  of  the  weasel  changed  by  Aphrodite  into  a woman 
who,  when  she  saw  a mouse,  could  not  refrain  from 
making  a spring  at  it.  This,  too,  is  very  like  a Sanskrit 
fable  ; but  how  then  could  it  have  been  brought  into 
Greece  early  enough  to  appear  in  one  of  the  comedies  of 
Strattis,  about  400  b.c.  ?*  Here,  too,  there  is  still  plenty 
of  work  to  do. 

We  may  go  back  even  farther  into  antiquity,  and  still 
find  strange  coincidences  between  the  legends  of  India  and 
the  legends  of  the  W est,  without  as  yet  being  able  to  say 
how  they  travelled,  whether  from  East  to  West,  or  from 
West  to  East.  That  at  the  time  of  Solomon  there  was  a 
channel  of  communication  open  between  India  and  Syria 
and  Palestine  is  established  beyond  doubt,  I believe,  by 
certain  Sanskrit  words  which  occur  in  the  Bible  as  names 
of  articles  of  export  from  Ophir,  articles  such  as  ivory, 
apes,  peacocks,  and  sandalwood,  which,  taken  together, 
could  not  have  been  exported  from  any  country  but 
India. f Nor  is  there  any  reason  to  suppose  that  the 
commercial  intercourse  between  India,  the  Persian 
Gulf,  the  Bed  Sea  and  the  Mediterranean  was  ever  com- 
pletely interrupted,  even  at  the  time  when  the  Book 
of  Kings  is  supposed  to  have  been  written. 


In  the  Hitopadesa,  a donkey,  being  nearly  starved,  is  sent  by  his 
master  into  a corn-field  to  feed.  In  order  to  shield  him  he  puts  a 
tiger’s  skin  on  him.  All  goes  well  till  a watchman  approaches,  hid- 
ing himself  under  his  gray  coat,  and  trying  to  shoot  the  tiger.  The 
donkey  thinks  it  is  a gray  female  donkey,  begins  to  bray,  and  is 
killed.  On  a similar  fable  in  iEsop,  see  Benfey,  “ Pantsehatantra,” 
vol.  i.,  p.  463  ; M.  M.,  “ Selected  Essays,”  vol.  i.,  p.  513. 

* See  “ Fragmenta  Comic”  (Didot),  p.  302;  Benfey,  1.  c.  vol.  i., 
p.  374. 

f “ Lectures  on  the  Science  of  Language,”  vol.  i.,  p.  231. 

The  names  employed  in  the  Hebrew  text  of  the  Bible  are  said 
to  be  Tamil. — A.  W. 


WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 


29 


Now  you  remember  the  judgment  of  Solomon,  which 
has  always  been  admired  as  a proof  of  great  legal  wis- 
dom among  the  Jews.*  I must  confess  that,  not  having 
a legal  mind,  I never  could  suppress  a certain  shudder  f 
when  reading  the  decision  of  Solomon  : “ Divide  the 
living  child  in  two,  and  give  half  to  the  one,  and  half 
to  the  other.  ’ ’ 

Let  me  now  tell  you  the  same  story  as  it  is  told  by  tbe 
Buddhists,  whose  sacred  Canon  is  full  of  such  legends 
and  parables.  In  the  Kanjur,  which  is  the  Tibetan 
translation  of  the  Buddhist  Triphaka,  we  likewise  read 
of  two  women  who  claimed  each  to  be  the  mother  of  the 
same  child.  The  king,  after  listening  to  their  quarrels 
for  a long  time,  gave  it  up  as  hopeless  to  settle  who  was 
the  real  mother.  Upon  this  Vi.sakha  stepped  forward 
and  said  : “ What  is  the  use  of  examining  and  cross- 
examining  these  women  ? Let  them  take  the  boy  and 
settle  it  among  themselves.”  Thereupon  both  women 
fell  on  the  child,  and  when  the  fight  became  violent  the 
child  was  hurt  and  began  to  cry.  Then  one  of  them 
let  him  go,  because  she  could  not  bear  to  hear  the  child 
cry. 

That  settled  the  question.  The  king  gave  the  child 
to  the  true  mother,  and  had  the  other  beaten  with  a rod. 

This  seems  to  me,  if  not  the  more  primitive,  yet  the 
more  natural  form  of  the  story — showing  a deeper  knowl- 

* 1 Kings  3 : 25. 

\ The  Bible  story  is  dramatic  ; the  other  is  not.  The  “ shudder” 
is  a tribute  to  the  dramatic  power  of  the  Bible  narrative.  The  child 
was  in  no  danger  of  being  cut  in  twain.  In  the  Buddhist  version  the 
child  is  injured.  Why  does  not  Prof.  Muller  shudder  when  the  child 
is  hurt  and  cries  ? The  Solomonic  child  is  not  hurt  and  does  not 
cry.  Is  not  the  Bible  story  the  more  humane,  the  more  dignified,  the 
more  dramatic  ? And  no  canon  of  criticism  requires  us  to  believe 
that  a poor  version  of  a story  is  the  more  primitive. — Am.  Pubs, 


yo 


LECTUKE  I. 


edge  of  human  nature  and  more  wisdom  than  even  the 
wisdom  of  Solomon.* 

Many  of  you  may  have  studied  not  only  languages,  but 
also  the  Science  of  Language,  and  is  there  any  country 
in  which  some  of  the  most  important  problems  of  that 
science,  say  only  the  growth  and  decay  of  dialects,  or  the 
possible  mixture  of  languages,  with  regard  not  only  to 
words,  blit  to  grammatical  elements  also,  can  be  studied 
to  greater  advantage  than  among  the  Aryan,  the  Dra vid- 
ian, and  the  Mimda  inhabitants  of  India,  when  brought  in 
contact  with  their  various  invaders  and  conquerors,  the 
Greeks,  the  Yue-tchi,  the  Arabs,  the  Persians,  the 
Moguls,  and  lastly  the  English  ? 

Again,  if  you  are  a student  of  Jurisprudence,  there  is 
a history  of  law  to  be  explored  in  India,  very  different 
from  what  is  known  of  the  history  of  law  in  Greece,  in 
Rome,  and  in  Germany,  yet  both  by  its  contrasts  and  by 
its  similarities  full  of  suggestions  to  the  student  of 
Comparative  Jurisprudence.  New  materials  are  being 
discovered  every  year,  as,  for  instance,  the  so-called 
Dliarma  or  SamayaMrika  Sutras,  which  have  supplied 
the  materials  for  the  later  metrical  law-books,  such  as 
the  famous  Laws  of  Manu.  What  was  once  called 
“ The  Code  of  Laws  of  Manu/’  and  confidently  referred 
to  1200,  or  at  least  500  n.c.,  is  now  hesitatingly  referred 
to  perhaps  the  fourth  century  a.d.,  and  called  neither  a 
Code,  nor  a Code  of  Laws,  least  of  all,  the  Code  of  Laws 
of  Manu. 

If  you  have  learned  to  appreciate  the  value  of  recent 

* See  some  excellent  remarks  on  this  subject  in  Khys  Davids, 
“Buddhist  Birth-Stories,”  vol.  i.,  pp.  xiii.  and  xliv.  The  learned 
scholar  gives  another  version  of  the  story  from  a Singhalese  trans- 
lation of  the  Oataka,  dating  from  the  fourteenth  century,  and  he  ex- 
presses a hope  that  Dr.  Fausboll  will  soon  publish  the  Pali  original. 


WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACII  US  ? 


31 


researches  into  the  antecedents  of  all  law,  namely  the 
foundation  and  growth  of  the  simplest  political  com- 
munities— and  nowhere  could  you  have  had  better  op- 
portunities for  it  than  here  at  Cambridge — you  will  find 
a field  of  observation  opened  before  you  in  the  still-ex- 
isting village  estates  in  India  that  will  amply  repay 
careful  research. 

And  take  that  which,  after  all,  whether  we  confess  or 
deny  it,  we  care  for  more  in  this  life  than  for  anything 
else — nay,  which  is  often  far  more  cared  for  by  those 
who  deny  than  by  those  who  confess — take  that  which 
supports,  pervades,  and  directs  all  our  acts  and  thoughts 
and  hopes — without  which  there  can  be  neither  village- 
community  nor  empire,  neither  custom  nor  law,  neither 
right  nor  wrong — take  that  which,  next  to  language, 
has  most  firmly  fixed  the  specific  and  permanent  barrier 
between  man  and  beast — which  alone  has  made  life  pos- 
sible and  bearable,  and  which,  as  it  is  the  deepest, 
though  often-hidden  spring  of  individual  life,  is  also  the 
foundation  of  all  national  life — the  history  of  all  histories, 
and  yet  the  mystery  of  all  mysteries — take  religion,  and 
where  can  you  study  its  true  origin,*  its  natural  growth, 
and  its  inevitable  decay  better  than  in  India,  the  home 
of  Brahmanism,  the  birthplace  of  Buddhism,  and  the 
refuge  of  Zoroastrianism,  even  now  the  mother  of  new 
superstitions — and  why  not,  in  the  future,  the  regener- 
ate child  of  the  purest  faith,  if  only  purified  from  the 
dust  of  nineteen  centuries  ? 

You  will  find  yourselves  everywhere  in  India  between 
an  immense  past  and  an  immense  future,  with  opportu- 
nities such  as  the  old  world  could  but  seldom,  if  ever, 

* This  is  true  of  what  theologians  call  natural  religion,  which  is 
assumed  to  be  a growth  out  of  human  consciousness  > but  the 
Christian  religion  is  not  a natural  religion. — Am.  Hubs. 


32 


LECTURE  I. 


offer  you.  Take  any  of  the  burning  questions  of  the 
day — popular  education,  higher  education,  parliamentary 
representation,  codification  of  laws,  finance,  emigration, 
poor-law  ; and  whether  you  have  anything  to  teach  and 
to  try,  or  anything  to  observe  and  to  learn,  India  will 
supply  you  with  a laboratory  such  as  exists  nowhere  else. 
That  very  Sanskrit,  the  study  of  which  may  at  first 
seem  so  tedious  to  you  and  so  useless,  if  only  you  will 
carry  it  on,  as  you  may  carry  it  on  here  at  Cambridge 
better  than  anywhere  else,  will  open  before  you  large 
layers  of  literature,  as  yet  almost  unknown  and  unex- 
plored, and  allow  you  an  insight  into  strata  of  thought 
deeper  than  any  you  have  known  before,  and  rich  in 
lessons  that  appeal  to  the  deepest  sympathies  of  the 
human  heart. 

Depend  upon  it,  if  only  you  can  make  leisure,  you  will 
find  plenty  of  work  in  India  for  your  leisure  hours. 

India  is  not,  as  you  may  imagine,  a distant,  strange, 
or,  at  the  very  utmost,  a curious  country.  India  for  the 
future  belongs  to  Europe,  it  has  its  place  in  the  Indo- 
European  world,  it  has  its  place  in  our  own  history,  and 
in  what  is  the  very  life  of  history,  the  history  of  the 
human  mind. 

You  know  how  some  of  the  best  talent  and  the 
noblest  genius  of  our  age  has  been  devoted  to  the  study 
of  the  development  of  the  outward  or  material  world, 
the  growth  of  the  earth,  the  first  appearance  of  living 
cells,  their  combination  and  differentiation,  leading  up  to 
the  beginning  of  organic  life,  and  its  steady  progress 
from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  stages.  Is  there  not  an 
inward  and  intellectual  world  also  which  has  to  be  stud- 
ied in  its  historical  development,  from  the  first  appear- 
ance of  predicative  and  demonstrative  roots,  their  com- 
bination and  differentiation,  leading  up  to  the  beginning 


WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 


33 


of  rational  thought  in  its  steady  progress  from  the  lowest 
to  the  highest  stages  ? And  in  that  study  of  the  history 
of  the  human  mind,  in  that  study  of  ourselves,  of  our 
true  selves,  India  occupies  a place  second  to  no  other 
country.  Whatever  sphere  of  the  human  mind  you  may 
select  for  your  special  study,  whether  it  be  language,  or 
religion,  or  mythology,  or  philosophy,  whether  it  be  laws 
or  customs,  primitive  art  or  primitive  science,  every- 
where, you  have  to  go  to  India,  whether  you  like  it  or 
not,  because  some  of  the  most  valuable  and  most  in- 
structive materials  in  the  history  of  man  are  treasured  up 
in  India,  and  in  India  only. 

And  while  thus  trying  to  explain  to  those  whose  lot 
will  soon  be  cast  in  Lidia  the  true  position  which  that 
wonderful  country  holds  or  ought  to  hold  in  universal 
history,  I may  perhaps  be  able  at  the  same  time  to  ap- 
peal to  the  sympathies  of  other  members  of  this  Univer- 
sity, by  showing  them  how  imperfect  our  knowledge  of 
universal  history,  our  insight  into  the  development  of 
the  human  intellect,  must  always  remain,  if  we  narrow 
our  horizon  to  the  history  of  Greeks  and  Romans,  Sax- 
ons and  Celts,  with  a dim  background  of  Palestine, 
Egypt,  and  Babylon,*  and  leave  out  of  sight  our  nearest 
intellectual  relatives,  the  Aryans  of  India,  the  framers  of 
the  most  wonderful  language,  the  Sanskrit,  the  fellow- 
workers  in  the  construction  of  our  fundamental  concepts, 
the  fathers  of  the  most  natural  of  natural  religions,  the 
makers  of  the  most  transparent  of  mythologies,  the  in- 
ventors of  the  most  subtle  philosophy,  and  the  givers  of 
the  most  elaborate  laws. 

* There  are  traces  of  Aryan  occupation  at  Babylon,  Rawlinson 
assures  us,  about  twenty  centuries  b.c.  This  would  suggest  a possible 
interchange  of  religious  ideas  between  the  earlier  Aryan  and  Akkado- 
Chaldean  peoples. — A.  W. 


34 


LECTURE  I. 


There  are  many  things  which  we  think  essential  in  a 
liberal  education,  whole  chapters  of  history  which  we 
teach  in  our  schools  and  universities,  that  cannot  for  one 
moment  compare  with  the  chapter  relating  to  India,  if 
only  properly  understood  and  freely  interpreted. 

In  our  time,  when  the  study  of  history  threatens  to 
become  almost  an  impossibility — such  is  the  mass  of  de- 
tails which  historians  collect  in  archives  and  pour  out 
before  us  in  monographs — it  seems  to  me  more  than  ever 
the  duty  of  the  true  historian  to  find  out  the  real  propor- 
tion of  things,  to  arrange  his  materials  according  to  the 
strictest  rules  of  artistic  perspective,  and  to  keep  com- 
pletely out  of  sight  all  that  may  be  rightly  ignored  by  us 
in  our  own  passage  across  the  historical  stage  of  the  world. 
It  is  this  power  of  discovering  what  is  really  important 
that  distinguishes  the  true  historian  from  the  mere 
chronicler,  in  whose  eyes  everything  is  important,  par- 
ticularly if  he  has  discovered  it  himself.  I think  it  was 
Frederick  the  Great  who,  when  sighing  for  a true  his- 
torian of  his  reign,  complained  bitterly  that  those  who 
wrote  the  history  of  Prussia  never  forgot  to  describe  the 
buttons  on  his  uniform.  And  it  is  probably  of  such  his- 
torical works  that  Carlyle  was  thinking  when  he  said  that 
he  had  waded  through  them  ail,  but  that  nothing  should 
ever  induce  him  to  hand  even  their  names  and  titles 
down  to  posterity.  And  yet  how  much  is  there  even  in 
Carlyle’s  histories  that  might  safely  be  consigned  to  ob- 
livion ! 

Why  do  we  want  to  know  history  ? Why  does  history 
form  a recognized  part  of  our  liberal  education  ? Sim- 
ply because  all  of  us,  and  every  one  of  us,  ought  to 
know  how  we  have  come  to  be  what  we  are,  so  that  each 
generation  need  not  start  again  from  the  same  point  and 
toil  over  the  same  ground,  but,  profiting  by  the  experi- 


WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 


35 


ence  of  those  who  came  before,  may  advance  toward 
higher  points  and  nobler  aims.  As  a child  when  grow- 
ing up  might  ask  his  father  or  grandfather  who  had 
built  the  house  they  lived  in,  or  who  had  cleared  the 
held  that  yielded  them  their  food,  we  ask  the  historian 
whence  we  came,  and  how  we  came  into  possession  of 
what  we  call  our  own.  History  may  tell  us  afterward 
many  useful  and  amusing  things,  gossip,  such  as  a child 
might  like  to  hear  from  his  mother  or  grandmother  ; but 
what  history  has  to  teach  us  before  all  and  everything,  is 
our  own  antecedents,  our  own  ancestors,  our  own  de- 
scent. 

How  our  principal  intellectual  ancestors  are,  no  doubt, 
the  Jews , the  Greeks , the  Romans , and  the  Saxons , and 
we,  here  in  Europe,  should  not  call  a man  educated  or 
enlightened  who  was  ignorant  of  the  debt  which  he  owes 
to  his  intellectual  ancestors  in  Palestine,  Greece,  Pome, 
and  Germany.  The  whole  past  history  of  the  world 
would  be  darkness  to  him,  and  not  knowing  what  those 
who  came  before  him  had  done  for  him,  he  would  prob- 
ably care  little  to  do  anything  for  those  who  are  to  come 
after  him.  Life  would  be  to  him  a chain  of  sand,  while 
it  ought  to  be  a kind  of  electric  chain  that  makes  our 
hearts  tremble  and  vibrate  with  the  most  ancient  thoughts 
of  the  past,  as  well  as  with  the  most  distant  hopes  of  the 
future. 

Let  us  begin  with  our  religion.  No  one  can  under- 
stand even  the  historical  possibility  of  the  Christian 
religion  without  knowing  something  of  the  Jewish  race, 
which  must  be  studied  chiefly  in  the  pages  of  the  Old 
Testament.  And  in  order  to  appreciate  the  true  rela- 
tion of  the  Jews  to  the  rest  of  the  ancient  world,  and  to 
understand  what  ideas  were  peculiarly  their  own,  and 
what  ideas  they  shared  in  common  with  the  other  mem- 


36 


LECTURE  I. 


bers  of  the  Semitic  stock,  or  what  moral  and  religious 
impulses  they  received  from  their  historical  contact  with 
other  nations  of  antiquity,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that 
we  should  pay  some  attention  to  the  history  of  Babylon, 
Nineveh,  Phoenicia,  and  Persia.  These  may  seem  dis- 
tant countries  and  forgotten  people,  and  many  might  feel 
inclined  to  say,  “ Let  the  dead  bury  their  dead  ; what 
are  those  mummies  to  jis  ?”  Still,  such  is  the  marvel- 
lous continuity  of  history,  that  I could  easily  show  you 
many  things  which  we,  even  we  who  are  here  assembled, 
owe  to  Babylon,  to  Nineveh,  to  Egypt,  .Phoenicia,  and 
Persia. 

Every  one  who  carries  a watch  owes  to  the  Baby- 
lonians the  division  of  the  hour  into  sixty  minutes.  It 
may  be  a very  bad  division,  yet  sxicli  as  it  is,  it  has  come 
to  us  from  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  and  it  came  to  them 
from  Babylon.  The  sexagesimal  division  is  peculiarly 
Babylonian.  Hipparchos,  150  b.c.,  adopted  it  from 
Babylon,  Ptolemy,  150  a.d.,  gave  it  wider  currency',  and 
the  French,  when  they  decimated  everything  else, 
respected  the  dial-plates  of  our  watches,  and  left  them 
with  their  sixty  Babylonian  minutes. 

Every  one  who  writes  a letter  owes  his  alphabet  to  the 
Romans  and  Greeks  ; the  Greeks  owed  their  alphabet  to 
the  Phoenicians,  and  the  Phoenicians  learned  it  in  Egypt. 
It  may  be  a very  imperfect  alphabet — as  all  the  students 
of  phonetics  will  tell  you — yet,  such  as  it  is  and  has 
been,  we  owe  it  to  the  old  Phoenicians  and  Egyptians, 
and  in  every  letter  we  trace,  there  lies  imbedded  the 
mummy  of  an  ancient  Egyptian  hieroglyphic. 

What  do  we  owe  to  the  Persians  ? It  does  not  seem 
to  be  much,  for  they  were  not  a very  inventive  race,  and 
what  they  knew  they  had  chiefly  learned  from  their 
neighbors,  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians.  Still,  we 


WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 


37 


owe  them  something.  First  of  all,  we  owe  them  a large 
debt  of  gratitude  for  having  allowed  themselves  to  be 
beaten  by  the  Greeks  ; for  think  what  the  world  would 
have  been  if  the  Persians  had  beaten  the  Greeks  at 
Marathon,  and  had  enslaved — that  means,  annihilated — 
the  genius  of  ancient  Greece.  However,  this  may  be 
called  rather  an  involuntary  contribution  to  the  progress 
of  humanity,  and  I mention  it  only  in  order  to  show  how 
narrowly,  not  only  Greeks  and  Romans,  but  Saxons  and 
Anglo-Saxons  too,  escaped  becoming  Parsis  or  Fire-wor- 
shippers. 

But  I can  mention  at  least  one  voluntary  gift  which 
came  to  us  from  Persia,  and  that  is  the  relation  of  silver 
to  gold  in  our  bi-metallic  currency.  That  relation  was, 
no  doubt,  first  determined  in  Babylonia,  but  it  assumed 
its  practical  and  historical  importance  in  the  Persian  em- 
pire, and  spread  from  there  to  the  Greek  colonies  in 
Asia,  and  thence  to  Europe,  where  it  lias  maintained 
itself  with  slight  variation  to  the  present  day. 

A talent  * was  divided  into  sixty  mince , a mina  into 
sixty  shekels.  Here  we  have  again  the  Babylonian  sex- 
agesimal system,  a system  which  ovres  its  origin  and  pop- 
ularity, I believe,  to  the  fact  that  sixty  has  the  greatest 
number  of  divisors.  Shekel  was  translated  into  Greek 
by  Stater,  and  an  Athenian  gold  stater,  like  the  Persian 
gold  stater,  down  to  the  times  of  Croesus,  Darius,  and 
Alexander,  was  the  sixtieth  part  of  a mina  of  gold,  not 
very  far  therefore  from  our  sovereign.  The  proportion 
of  silver  to  gold  was  fixed  as  thirteen  or  thirteen  and  a 
third  to  one  ; and  if  the  weight  of  a silver  shekel  was 
made  as  thirteen  to  ten,  such  a coin  would  correspond 

* See  Cunningham,  “Journal  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Bengal,” 

1881,  pp.  162-168. 


38 


LECTURE  I. 


very  nearly  to  our  florin.*  Half  a silver  shekel  was  a 
drachma,  and  this  was  therefore  the  true  ancestor  of  our 
shilling. 

Again  you  may  say  that  any  attempt  at  fixing  the  rela- 
tive value  of  silver  and  gold  is,  and  always  has  been,  a 
great  mistake.  Still  it  shows  how  closely  the  world  is 
held  together,  and  how,  for  good  or  for  evil,  we  are 
what  we  are,  not  so  much  by  ourselves  as  by  the  toil  and 
moil  of  those  who  came  before  us,  our  true  intellectual 
ancestors,  whatever  the  blood  may  have  been  composed 
of  that  ran  through  their  veins,  or  the  bones  which 
formed- the  rafters  of  their  skulls. 

And  if  it  is  tme,  with  regard  to  religion,  that  no  one 
could  understand  it  and  appreciate  its  full  purport  with- 
out knowing  its  origin  and  growth,  that  is,  without 
knowing  something  of  what  the  cuneiform  inscriptions 
of  Mesopotamia,  the  hieroglyphic  and  hieratic  texts  of 
Egypt,  and  the  historical  monuments  of  Phoenicia  and 
Persia  can  alone  reveal  to  us,  it  is  equally  true  with  re- 
gard to  all  the  other  elements  that  constitute  the  whole 
of  our  intellectual  life.  If  we  are  Jewish  or  Semitic  in 
our  religion,  we  are  Greek  in  our  philosophy,  Roman  in 
our  politics,  and  Saxon  in  our  morality  ; and  it  follows 
that  a knowledge  of  the  history  of  the  Greeks,  Romans, 
and  Saxons,  or  of  the  flow  of  civilization  from  Greece  to 
Italy,  and  through  Germany  to  these  isles,  forms  an 
essential  element  in  what  is  called  a liberal,  that  is,  an 
historical  and  rational  education. 

But  then  it  might  be  said,  Let  this  be  enough.  Let 
us  know  by  all  means  all  that  deserves  to  be  known 
about  our  real  spiritual  ancestors  in  the  great  historical 
kingdoms  of  the  world  ; let  us  be  grateful  for  all  we 

* Stm,  the  Persian  word  for  silver,  has  also  the  meaning  of  one 
thirteenth  ; see  Cunningham,  1.  c.  p.  1G5. 


WHAT  CAN"  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 


39 


have  inherited  from  Egyptians,  Babylonians,  Phoenicians, 
Jews,  Greeks,  Romans,  and  Saxons.  But  why  bring  in 
India  ? Why  add  a new  burden  to  what  every  man  has 
to  bear  already,  before  he  can  call  himself  fairly  edu- 
cated ? What  have  we  inherited  from  the  dark  dwellers 
on  the  Indus  and  the  Ganges,  that  we  should  have  to 
add  their  royal  names  and  dates  and  deeds  to  the  archives 
of  our  already  overburdened  memory  ? 

There  is  some  justice  in  this  complaint.  The  ancient 
inhabitants  of  India  are  not  our  intellectual  ancestors  in 
the  same  direct  way  as  Jews,  Greeks,  Romans,  and  Sax- 
ons are  ; but  they  represent,  nevertheless,  a collateral 
branch  of  that  family  to  which  we  belong  by  language, 
that  is,  by  thought,  and  their  historical  records  extend  in 
some  respects  so  far  beyond  all  other  records  and  have 
been  preserved  to  us  in  such  perfect  and  such  legible 
documents,  that  we  can  learn  from  them  lessons  which 
we  can  learn  nowhere  else,  and  supply  missing  links  in 
our  intellectual  ancestry  far  more  important  than  that 
missing  link  (which  we  can  well  afford  to  miss),  the  link 
between  Ape  and  Man. 

I am  not  speaking  as  yet  of  the  literature  of  India  as  it 
is,  but  of  something  far  more  ancient,  the  language  of 
India,  or  Sanskrit.  No  one  supposes  any  longer  that 
Sanskrit  was  the  common  source  of  Greek,  Latin,  and 
Anglo-Saxon.  This  used  to  be  said,  but  it  has  long  been 
shown  that  Sanskrit  is  only  a collateral  branch  of  the 
same  stem  from  which  spring  Greek,  Latin,  and  Anglo- 
Saxon  ; and  not  only  these,  but  all  the  Teutonic,  all  the 
Celtic,  all  the  Slavonic  languages,  nay,  the  languages  of 
Persia  and  Armenia  also. 

What,  then,  is  it  that  gives  to  Sanskrit  its  claim  on 
our  attention,  and  its  supreme  importance  in  the  eyes  of 
the  historian  ? 


40 


LECTUKE  I. 


First  of  all,  its  antiquity — for  we  know  Sanskrit  at  an 
earlier  period  than  Greek.  But  what  is  far  more  impor- 
tant than  its  merely  chronological  antiquity  is  the  antique 
state  of  preservation  in  which  that  Aryan  language  has 
been  handed  down  to  us.  The  world  had  known  Latin 
and  Greek  for  centuries,  and  it  was  felt,  no  doubt,  that 
there  was  some  kind  of  similarity  between  the  two.  But 
how  was  that  similarity  to  be  explained  ? Sometimes 
Latin  was  supposed  to  give  the  key  to  the  formation  of  a 
Greek  word,  sometimes  Greek  seemed  to  betray  the 
secret  of  the  origin  of  a Latin  word.  Afterward,  when 
the  ancient  Teutonic  languages,  such  as  Gothic  and 
Anglo-Saxon,  and  the  ancient  Celtic  and  Slavonic  lan- 
guages too,  came  to  he  studied,  no  one  could  help  seeing 
a certain  family  likeness  among  them  all.  But  how  such 
a likeness  between  these  languages  came  to  he,  and  how, 
what  is  far  more  difficult  to  explain,  such  striking  differ- 
ences too  between  these  languages  came  to  be,  remained 
a mystery,  and  gave  rise  to  the  most  gratuitous  theories, 
most  of  them,  as  you  know,  devoid  of  all  scientific  foun- 
dation. As  soon,  however,  as  Sanskrit  stepped  into  the 
midst  of  these  languages,  there  came  light  and  warmth 
and  mutual  recognition.  They  all  ceased  to  be  stran- 
gers, and  each  fell  of  its  own  accord  into  its  right  place. 
Sanskrit  was  the  eldest  sister  of  them  all,  and  could  tell 
of  many  things  which  the  other  members  of  the  family 
had  quite  forgotten.  Still,  the  other  languages  too  had 
each  their  own  tale  to  tell  ; and  it  is  out  of  all  their  tales 
together  that  a chapter  in  the  human  mind  has  been  put 
together  which,  in  some  respects,  is  more  important  to 
us  than  any  of  the  other  chapters,  the  Jewish,  the 
Greek,  the  Latin,  or  the  Saxon. 

The  process  by  which  that  ancient  chapter  of  history 
was  recovered  is  very  simple.  Take  the  words  which 


WHAT  CAST  INMA  TEACH  US  ? 


41 


occur  in  the  same  form  and  with  the  same  meaning  in  all 
the  seven  branches  of  the  Aryan  family,  and  you  have  in 
them  the  most  genuine  and  trustworthy  records  in  which 
to  read  the  thoughts  of  our  true  ancestors,  before  they 
had  become  Hindus,  or  Persians,  or  Greeks,  or  Romans, 
or  Celts,  or  Teutons,  or  Slaves.  Of  course,  some  of  these 
ancient  charters  may  have  been  lost  in  one  or  other  of 
these  seven  branches  of  the  Aryan  family,  but  even 
then,  if  they  are  found  in  six,  or  five,  or  four,  or  three, 
or  even  two  only  of  its  original  branches,  the  probability 
remains,  unless  we  can  prove  a later  historical  contact 
between  these  languages,  that  these  words  existed  befox’e 
the  great  Aryan  Separation.  If  we  find  agni,  meaning 
fire,  in  Sanskrit,  and  ignis,  meaning  fire,  in  Latin,  we 
may  safely  conclude  that  fire  was  known  to  the  undivid- 
ed Aryans,  even  if  no  trace  of  the  same  name  of  fire  oc- 
curred anywhere  else.  And  why  ? Because  there  is  no 
indication  that  Latin  remained  longer  united  with  San- 
skrit than  any  of  the  other  Aryan  languages,  or  that 
Latin  could  have  borrowed  such  a word  from  Sanskrit, 
after  these  two  languages  had  once  become  distinct.  We 
have,  however,  the  Lithuanian  ugn\s,  and  the  Scottish 
ingle,  to  show  that  the  Slavonic  and  possibly  the  Teu- 
tonic languages  also,  knew  the  same  word  for  fire, 
though  they  replaced  it  in  time  by  other  words.  W ords, 
like  all  other  things,  will  die,  and  why  they  should  live 
on  in  one  soil  and  wither  away  and  perish  in  another,  is 
not  always  easy  to  say.  What  has  become  of  ignis,  for 
instance,  in  all  the  Romance  languages  ? It  has  with- 
ered away  and  perished,  probably  because,  after  losing 
its  final  unaccentuated  syllable,  it  became  awkward  to 
pronounce  ; and  another  word,  focus,  which  in  Latin 
meant  fireplace,  hearth,  altar,  has  taken  its  place. 

Suppose  we  wanted  to  know  whether  the  ancient 


42 


LECTURE  I. 


Aryans  before  their  separation  knew  the  mouse  : we 
should  only  have  to  consult  the  principal  Aryan  diction- 
aries, and  we  should  find  in  Sanskrit  mush,  in  Greek 
pvg,  in  Latin  mus,  in  Old  Slavonic  ini/se,  in  Old  High 
German  mus,  enabling  us  to  say  that,  at  a time  so  dis- 
tant from  us  that  we  feel  inclined  to  measure  it  by  Ind- 
ian rather  than  by  our  own  chronology,  the  mouse  was 
known,  that  is,  was  named,  was  conceived  and  recog- 
nized as  a species  of  its  own,  not  to  be  confounded  with 
any  other  vermin. 

And  if  we  were  to  ask  whether  the  enemy  of  the 
mouse,  the  cat,  was  known  at  the  same  distant  time,  we 
should  feel  justified  in  saying  decidedly,  Ho.  The  cat 
is  called  in  Sanskrit  maryara  and  vir/ala.  In  Greek  and 
Latin  the  words  usually  given  as  names  of  the  cat,  yaXerj 
and  alXovpoc,  mustella  and  feles,  did  not  originally  sig- 
nify the  tame  cat,  but  the  weasel  or  marten.  The  name 
for  the  real  cat  in  Greek  was  sarTa,  in  Latin  catus , and 
these  words  have  supplied  the  names  for  cat  in  all  the 
Teutonic,  Slavonic,  and  Celtic  languages.  The  animal 
itself,  so  far  as  we  know  at  present,  came  to  Europe 
from  Egypt,  where  it  had  been  worshipped  for  centuries 
and  tamed  ; and  as  this  arrival  probably  dates  from  the 
fourth  century  a.i>.,  we  can  well  understand  that  no 
common  name  for  it  could  have  existed  when  the  Aryan 
nations  separated.* 

* The  common  domestic  cat  is  first  mentioned  by  .Csesarius,  the 
physician,  brother  of  Gregory  of  Nazianus,  about  the  middle  of  the 
fourth  century.  It  came  from  Egypt,  where  it  was  regarded  as  sacred. 
Herodotus  denominates  it  al?.nvpoc,  which  was  also  the  designation  of 
the  weasel  and  marten.  Kallimachus  employs  the  same  title,  which 
his  commentator  explains  as  narrow.  In  later  times  this  name  of  un- 
certain etymology  has  superseded  every  other.  The  earlier  Sanskrit 
writers  appear  to  have  had  no  knowledge  of  the  animal ; but  the 
maryara  is  named  by  Manu,  and  the  vidala  by  Panini. — A.  W, 


WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 


43 


In  this  way  a more  or  less  complete  picture  of  the 
state  of  civilization,  previous  to  the  Aryan  Separation, 
can  be  and  has  been  reconstructed,  like  a mosaic  put  to- 
gether with  the  fragments  of  ancient  stones  ; and  I 
doubt  whether,  in  tracing  the  history  of  the  human 
mind,  we  shall  ever  reach  to  a lower  stratum  than  that 
which  is  revealed  to  us  by  the  converging  rays  of  the 
different  Aryan  languages. 

Nor  is  that  all  ; for  even  that  Proto- Aryan  language, 
as  it  has  been  reconstructed  from  the  ruins  scattered 
about  in  India,  Greece,  Italy,  and  Germany,  is  clearly 
the  result  of  a long,  long  process  of  thought.  One 
shrinks  from  chronological  limitations  when  looking  into 
such  distant  periods  of  life.  But  if  we  find  Sanskrit  as 
a perfect  literary  language,  totally  different  from  Greek 
and  Latin,  1500  u.c.,  Avhere  can  those  streams  of  San- 
skrit, Greek,  and  Latin  meet,  as  we  trace  them  back  to 
their  common  source  ? And  then,  when  we  have  fol- 
lowed these  mighty  national  streams  back  to  their  com- 
mon meeting-point,  even  then  that  common  language 
looks  like  a rock  washed  down  and  smoothed  for  ages  by 
the  ebb  and  flow  of  thought.  We  find  in  that  language 
such  a compound,  for  instance,  as  asmi,  I am,  Greek 
EOfu.  What  would  other  languages  give  for  such  a pure 
concept  as  I mi  f They  may  say,  / stand,  or  I live , or 
I grow,  or  [ turn , but  it  is  given  to  few  languages  only 
to  be  able  to  say  I a/m.  To  us  nothing  seems  more  nat- 
ural than  the  auxiliary  verb  / am  j but,  in  reality,  no 
work  of  art  has  required  greater  efforts  than  this  little 
word  I am.  And  all  those  efforts  lie  beneath  the  level 
of  the  common  Proto-Aryan  speech.  Many  different 
ways  were  open,  were  tried,  too,  in  order  to  arrive  at 
such  a compound  as  asmi,  and  such  a concept  as  f am. 
But  all  were  given  up,  and  this  one  alone  remained,  and 


44 


LECTURE  I. 


was  preserved  forever  in  all  the  languages  and  all  the 
dialects  of  the  Aryan  family.  In  as-ini,  as  is  the  root, 
and  in  the  compound  as-mi , the  predicative  root  as,  to 
be,  is  predicated  of  mi,  I.  But  no  language  could  ever 
produce  at  once  so  empty,  or,  if  you  like,  so  general  a 
root  as  as,  to  he.  As  meant  originally  to  breathe,  and 
from  it  we  have  asu , breath,  spirit,  life,  also  as  the 
mouth,  Latin  os,  oris.  By  constant  wear  and  tear  this 
root  as,  to  breathe,  had  first  to  lose  all  signs  of  its  origi- 
nal material  character,  before  it  could  convey  that  purely 
abstract  meaning  of  existence,  without  any  qualification, 
which  has  rendered  to  the  higher  operations  of  thought 
the  same  service  which  the  nought,  likewise  the  inven- 
tion of  Indian  genius,  has  to  render  in  arithmetic.  Who 
will  say  how  long  the  friction  lasted  which  changed  as, 
to  breathe,  into  as,  to  be  ? And  even  a root  as,  to 
breathe,  was  an  Aryan  root,  not  Semitic,  not  Turanian. 
It  possessed  an  historical  individuality — it  was  the  work 
of  our  forefathers,  and  represents  a thread  which  unites 
us  in  our  thoughts  and  words  with  those  who  first 
thought  for  us,  with  those  who  first  spoke  for  us,  and 
whose  thoughts  and  words  men  are  still  thinking  and 
speaking,  though  divided  from  them  by  thousands,  it 
may  be  by  hundreds  of  thousands  of  years. 

This  is  what  I call  history  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
word,  something  really  worth  knowing,  far  more  so  than 
the  scandals  of  courts,  or  the  butcheries  of  nations,  which 
fill  so  many  pages  of  our  Manuals  of  History.  And  all 
this  work  is  only  beginning,  and  whoever  likes  to  labor 
in  these  the  most  ancient  of  historical  archives  will  find 
plenty  of  discoveries  to  make — and  yet  people  ask,  What 
is  the  use  of  learning  Sanskrit  ? 

We  get  accustomed  to  everything,  and  cease  to  won- 
der at  what  would  have  startled  our  fathers  and  upset  all 


WHAT  CAN  iNIMA  TEACH  US? 


45 


their  stratilied  notions,  like  a sudden  earthquake.  Every 
child  now  learns  at  school  that  English  is  an  Aryan  or 
Indo-European  language,  that  it  belongs  to  the  Teutonic 
branch,  and  that  this  branch,  together  with  the  Italic, 
Greek,  Celtic,  Slavonic,  Iranic,  and  Indie  branches,  all 
spring  from  the  same  stock,  and  form  together  the  great 
Aryan  or  Indo-European  family  of  speech. 

But  this,  though  it  is  taught  now  in  our  elementary 
schools,  was  really,  but  fifty  years  ago,  like  the  opening 
of  a new  horizon  of  the  world  of  the  intellect,  and  the 
extension  of  a feeling  of  closest  fraternity  that  made  us 
feel  at  home  where  before  we  had  been  strangers,  and 
changed  millions  of  so-called  barbarians  into  our  own 
kith  and  kin.  To  speak  the  same  language  constitutes  a 
closer  union  than  to  have  drunk  the  same  milk  ; and 
Sanskrit,  the  ancient  language  of  India,  is  substantially 
the  same  language  as  Greek,  Latin,  and  Anglo-Saxon. 
This  is  a lesson  which  we  should  never  have  learned  but 
from  a study  of  Indian  language  and  literature,  and  if 
India  had  taught  us  nothing  else,  it  would  have  taught 
us  more  than  almost  any  other  language  ever  did. 

It  is  quite  amusing,  thoxigh  instructive  also,  to  read 
what  was  written  by  scholars  and  philosophers  when  this 
new  light  first  dawned  on  the  world.  They  would  not 
have  it,  they  would  not  believe  that  there  could  be  any 
community  of  origin  between  the  people  of  Athens  and 
Rome,  and  the  so-called  Niggers  of  India.  The  classi- 
cal scholar  scouted  the  idea,  and  I myself  still  remember 
the  time,  when  I was  a student  at  Leipzig,  and  began  to 
study  Sanskrit,  with  what  contempt  any  remarks  on 
Sanskrit  or  comparative  grammar  were  treated  by  my 
teachers,  men  such  as  Gottfried  Hermann,  Raupt,  Wes- 
termann,  Stallbaum,  and  others.  No  one  ever  was  for  a 
time  so  completely  laughed  down  as  Professor  Bopp, 


46 


LECTURE  I, 


when  lie  first  published  his  Comparative  Grammar  of 
Sanskrit,  Zend,  Greek,  Latin,  and  Gothic.  All  hands 
were  against  him  : and  if  in  comparing  Greek  and  Latin 
with  Sanskrit,  Gothic,  Celtic,  Slavonic,  or  Persian,  he 
happened  to  have  placed  one  single  accent  wrong,  the 
shouts  of  those  who  knew  nothing  but  Greek  and  Latin, 
and  probably  looked  in  their  Greek  dictionaries  to  be 
quite  sure  of  their  accents,  would  never  end.  Dugald 
Stewart,  rather  than  admit  a relationship  between  Hindus 
and  Scots,  would  rather  believe  that  the  whole  Sanskrit 
language  and  the  whole  of  Sanskrit  literature — mind,  a 
literature  extending  over  three  thousand  years  and  larger 
than  the  ancient  literature  of  either  Greece  or  Rome — 
was  a forgery  of  those  wily  priests,  the  Brahmans.  I 
remember  too  how,  when  I was  at  school  at  Leipzig  (and 
a very  good  school  it  was,  with  such  masters  as  Nobbe, 
Forbiger,  Funkhaenel,  and  Palm — an  old  school  too, 
which  could  boast  of  Leibnitz  among  its  former  pupils)  I 
remember,  1 say,  one  of  our  masters  (Dr.  Klee)  telling  us 
one  afternoon,  when  it  was  too  hot  to  do  any  serious 
work,  that  there  was  a language  spoken  in  India,  which 
was  much  the  same  as  Greek  and  Latin,  nay,  as  German 
and  Russian.  At  first  we  thought  it  was  a joke,  but 
when  one  saw  the  parallel  columns  of  numerals,  pro- 
nouns, and  verbs  in  Sanskrit,  Greek,  and  Latin  written 
on  the  blackboard,  one  felt  in  the  presence  of  facts,  be- 
fore which  one  had  to  bow.  All  one’s  ideas  of  Adam 
and  Eve,  and  the  Paradise,  and  the  tower  of  Babel,  and 
Shem,  Ham,  and  Japhet,  with  Homer  and  HCneas  and 
Yirgil  too,  seemed  to  be  whirling  round  and  round,  till 
at  last  one  picked  up  the  fragments  and  tried  to  build 
up  a new  world,  and  to  live  with  a new  historical  con- 
sciousness. 

Here  you  will  see  why  I consider  a certain  knowledge 


WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACH  US? 


47 


of  India  an  essential  portion  of  a liberal  or  an  historical 
education.  The  concept  of  the  European  man  has  been 
changed  and  widely  extended  by  our  acquaintance  with 
India,  and  we  know  now  that  we  are  something  different 
from  what  we  thought  we  W’ere.  Suppose  the  Ameri- 
cans, owing  to  some  cataclysmal  events,  had  forgotten 
their  English  origin,  and  after  two  or  three  thousand 
years  found  themselves  in  possession  of  a language  and 
of  ideas  which  they  could  trace  back  historically  to  a cer- 
tain date,  but  which,  at  that  date,  seemed,  as  it  were, 
fallen  from  the  sky,  without  any  explanation  of  their 
origin  and  previous  growth,  what  would  they  say  if  sud- 
denly the  existence  of  an  English  language  and  literature 
were  revealed  to  them,  such  as  they  existed  in  the  eigh- 
teenth century — explaining  all  that  seemed  before  almost 
miraculous,  and  solving  almost  every  question  that  could 
be  asked  ? Well,  this  is  much  the  same  as  what  the  dis- 
covery of  Sanskrit  has  done  for  us.  It  has  added  a new 
period  to  our  historical  consciousness,  and  revived  the 
recollections  of  our  childhood,  which  seemed  to  have 
vanished  forever. 

Whatever  else  we  may  have  been,  it  is  quite  clear  now' 
that,  many  thousands  of  years  ago,  we  were  something 
that  'had  not  yet  developed  into  an  Englishman,  or  a 
Saxon,  or  a Greek,  or  a Hindu  either,  yet  contained  in 
itself  the  germs  of  all  these  characters.  A strange  be- 
ing, you  may  say.  Yes,  but  for  all  that  a very  real 
being,  and  an  ancestor  too  of  whom  we  must  learn  to  be 
proud,  far  more  than  of  any  such  modern  ancestors,  as 
Normans,  Saxons,  Celts,  and  all  the  rest. 

And  this  is  not  all  yet  that  a study  of  Sanskrit  and  the 
other  Aryan  languages  has  done  for  us.  It  has  not  only 
widened  our  view's  of  man,  and  taught  us  to  embrace 
millions  of  strangers  and  barbarians  as  members  of  one 


48 


LECTURE  I. 


family,  but  it  lias  imparted  to  the  whole  ancient  history 
of  man  a reality  which  it  never  possessed  before. 

We  speak  and  write  a great  deal  about  antiquities,  and 
if  we  can  lay  hold  of  a Greek  statue  or  an  Egyptian 
Sphinx  or  a Babylonian  Bull,  our  heart  rejoices,  and  we 
build  museums  grander  than  any  royal  palaces  to  receive 
the  treasures  of  the  past.  This  is  quite  right.  But  are 
you  aware  that  every  one  of  us  possesses  what  may  be 
called  the  richest  and  most  wonderful  Museum  of  An- 
tiquities, older  than  any  statues,  sphinxes,  or  bulls  ? 
And  where  ? Why,  in  our  own  language.  When  I use 
such  words  as  father  or  mother , heart  or  tear,  one , two, 
three , here  and  there,  I am  handling  coins  or  counters 
that  were  current  before  there  was  one  single  Greek 
statue,  one  single  Babylonian  Bull,  one  single  Egyptian 
Sphinx.  Yes,  each  of  us  carries  about  with  him  the 
richest  and  most  wonderful  Museum  of  Antiquities  ; and 
if  he  only  knows  how  to  treat  those  treasures,  how  to 
rub  and  polish  them  till  they  become  translucent  again, 
how  to  arrange  them  and  read  them,  they  will  tell  him 
marvels  more  marvellous  than  all  hieroglyphics  and 
cuneiform  inscriptions  put  together.  The  stories  they 
have  told  us  are  beginning  to  be  old  stories  now.  Many 
of  you  have  heard  them  before.  But  do  not  let  them 
cease  to  be  marvels,  like  so  many  things  which  cease  to 
be  marvels  because  they  happen  every  day.  And  do  not 
think  that  there  is  nothing  left  for  you  to  do.  There 
are  more  marvels  still  to  be  discovered  in  language  than 
have  ever  been  revealed  to  us  ; nay,  there  is  no  word, 
however  common,  if  only  you  know  how  to  take  it  to 
pieces,  like  a cunningly  contrived  work  of  art,  fitted  to- 
gether thousands  of  years  ago  by  the  most  cunning  of 
artists,  the  human  mind,  that  will  not  make  you  listen  and 
marvel  more  than  any  chapter  of  the  Arabian  Nights. 


WHAT  CAN  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 


49 


But  I must  not  allow  myself  to  be  carried  away  from 
my  proper  subject.  All  I wish  to  impress  on  you  by  way 
of  introduction  is  that  the  results  of  the  Science  of  Lan- 
guage, which,  without  the  aid  of  Sanskrit,  would  never 
have  been  obtained,  form  an  essential  element  of  what 
we  call  a liberal,  that  is  an  historical  education — an  edu- 
cation which  will  enable  a man  to  do  what  the  French 
call  s'orienter,  that  is,  “ to  find  his  East,”  “ his  true 
East,”  and  thus  to  determine  his  real  place  in  the  world  ; 
to  know,  in  fact,  the  port  whence  man  started,  the  course 
he  has  followed,  and  the  port  toward  which  he  has  to 
steer. 

We  all  come  from  the  East — all  that  wTe  value  most 
has  come  to  us  from  the  East,  and  in  going  to  the  East, 
not  only  those  who  have  received  a special  Oriental 
training,  but  everybody  who  lias  enjoyed  the  advantages 
of  a liberal,  that  is,  of  a truly  historical  education,  ought 
to  feel  that  he  is  going  to  his  “ old  home,”  full  of  mem- 
ories, if  only  he  can  read  them.  Instead  of  feeling  your 
hearts  sink  within  you,  when  next  year  you  approach  the 
shores  of  India,  I wish  that  every  one  of  you  could  feel 
what  Sir  William  Jones  felt,  when,  just  one  hundred 
years  ago,  he  came  to  the  end  of  his  long  voyage  from 
England,  and  saw  the  shores  of  India  rising  on  the  hori-  ■ 
zon.  At  that  time,  young  men  going  to  the  wonderland 
of  India  were  not  ashamed  of  dreaming  dreams  and 
seeing  visions  ; and  this  was  the  dream  dreamed  and  the 
vision  seen  by  Sir  William  Jones,  then  simple  Mr. 
Jones  : 

“ When  I was  at  sea  last  August  (that  is  in  August, 
1783),  on  my  last  voyage  to  this  country  (India)  I Lid 
long  and  ardently  desired  to  visit,  I found  one  evening, 
on  inspecting  the  observations  of  the  day,  that  India  jay 
before  us,  Persia  on  our  left,  while  a breeze  from  Ara- 


50 


LECTURE  I. 


bin  blew  nearly  on  our  stern.  A situation  so  pleasing  in 
itself  and  to  me  so  new,  could  not  fail  to  awaken  a train 
of  reflections  in  a mind  winch  had  early  been  accus- 
tomed to  contemplate  with  delight  the  eventful  histories 
and  agreeable  fictions  of  this  Eastern  world.  It  gave 
me  inexpressible  pleasure  to  find  myself  in  the  midst  of 
so  noble  an  amphitheatre,  almost  encircled  by  the  vast 
regions  of  Asia,  which  has  ever  been  esteemed  the  nurse 
of  sciences,  the  inventress  of  delightful  and  useful  arts, 
the  scene  of  glorious  actions,  fertile  in  the  productions  of 
human  genius,  and  infinitely  diversified  in  the. forms  of 
religion  and  government,  in  the  laws,  manners,  customs, 
and  languages,  as  well  as  in  the  features  and  complexions 
of  men.  I could  not  help  remarking  how  important  and 
extensive  a field  was  yet  unexplored,  and  how  many 
solid  advantages  unimproved.” 

India  wants  more  such  dreamers  as  that  young  Mr. 
Jones,  standing  alone  on  the  deck  of  his  vessel  and 
watching  the  sun  diving  into  the  sea — with  the  memories 
of  England  behind  and  the  hopes  of  India  before  him, 
feeling  the  presence  of  Persia  and  its  ancient  monarchs, 
and  breathing  the  breezes  of  Arabia  and  its  glowing 
poetry.  Such  dreamers  know  how  to  make  their  dreams 
come  true,  and  how  to  change  their  visions  into  re- 
alities. 

And  as  it  was  a hundred  years  ago,  so  it  is  now  ; or  at 
least,  so  it  may  be  now.  There  are  many  bright  dreams 
to  be  dreamed  about  India,  and  many  bright  deeds  to  be 
done  in  India,  if  only  you  will  do  them.  Though  many 
great  and  glorious  conquests  have  been  made  in  the  his- 
tory and  literature  of  the  East,  since  the  days  when  Sir 
William  Jones  * landed  at  Calcutta,  depend  upon  it,  no 

* Sir  William  Jones  was  thirty-seven  years  of  age  when  he  sailed 
for  India.  He  received  the  honor  of  knighthood  in  March,  1783,  on 


WHAT  CAN"  INDIA  TEACH  US  ? 


51 


young  Alexander  here  need  despair  because  there  are  no 
kingdoms  left  for  him  to  conquer  on  the  ancient  shores 
of  the  Indus  and  the  Ganges. 

liis  appointment  as  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Judicature  at 
Fort  William,  at  Bengal. — A.  W. 


LECTURE  II. 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 

In  my  first  Lecture  I endeavored  to  remove  the  prej- 
udice that  everything  in  India  is  strange,  and  so  different 
from  the  intellectual  life  which  we  are  accustomed  to  in 
England,  that  the  twenty  or  twenty-five  years  which  a 
civil  servant  has  to  spend  in  the  East  seem  often  to  him 
a kind  of  exile  that  he  must  bear  as  well  as  he  can,  but 
that  severs  him  completely  from  all  those  higher  pursuits 
by  which  life  is  made  enjoyable  at  home.  This  need  not 
be  so  and  ought  not  to  be  so,  if  only  it  is  clearly  seen 
how  almost  every  one  of  the  higher  interests  that  make 
life  worth  living  here  in  England,  may  find  as  ample 
scope  in  India  as  in  England. 

To-day  I shall  have  to  grapple  with  another  prejudice 
which  is  even  more  mischievous,  because  it  forms  a kind 
of  icy  barrier  between  the  Hindus  and  their  rulers,  and 
makes  anything  like  a feeling  of  true  fellowship  between 
the  two  utterly  impossible. 

That  prejudice  consists  in  looking  upon  our  stay  in 
India  as  a kind  of  moral  exile,  and  in  regarding  the 
Hindus  as  an  inferior  race,  totally  different  from  our- 
selves in  their  moral  character,  and,  more  particularly  in 
what  forms  the  .very  foundation  of  the  English  charac- 
ter, respect  for  truth. 

1 believe  there  is  nothing  more  disheartening  to  any 
high-minded  young  man  than  the  idea  that  he  will  have 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


53 


to  spend  his  life  among  human  beings  whom  he  can 
never  respect  or  love — natives,  as  they  are  called,  not  to 
use  even  more  offensive  names — men  whom  he  is  taught 
to  consider  as  not  amenable  to  the  recognized  principles 
of  self-respect,  uprightness,  and  veracity,  and  with 
whom  therefore  any  community  of  interests  and  action, 
much  more  any  real  friendship,  is  supposed  to  be  out  of 
the  question. 

So  often  has  that  charge  of  untruthfulness  been  re- 
peated, and  so  generally  is  it  now  accepted,  that  it  seems 
almost  Quixotic  to  try  to  fight  against  it. 

Nor  should  I venture  to  fight  this  almost  hopeless 
battle,  if  I were  not  convinced  that  such  a charge,  like 
all  charges  brought  against  a whole  nation,  rests  on  the 
most  flimsy  induction,  and  that  it  has  done,  is  doing, 
and  will  continue  to  do  more  mischief  than  anything 
that  even  the  bitterest  enemy  of  English  dominion  in 
India  could  have  invented.  If  a young  man  who  goes 
to  India  as  a civil  servant  or  as  a military  officer,  goes 
there  fully  convinced  that  the  people  whom  he  is  to 
meet  with  are  all  liars,  liars  by  nature  or  by  national  in- 
stinct, never  restrained  in  their  dealings  by  any  regard 
for  truth,  never  to  be  trusted  on  their  word,  need  we 
wonder  at  the  feelings  of  disgust  with  which  he  thinks 
of  the  Hindus,  even  before  he  has  seen  them  ; the  feel- 
ings of  distrust  with  which  he  approaches  them,  and  the 
contemptuous  way  in  which  he  treats  them  when  brought 
into  contact  with  them  for  the  transaction  of  public  or 
private  business  ? When  such  tares  have  once  been  sown 
by  the  enemy,  it  will  be  difficult  to  gather  them  up.  It 
has  become  almost  an  article  of  faith  with  every  Indian 
civil  servant  that  all  Indians  arc  liars  ; nay,  I know  T 
shall  never  be  forgiven  for  my  heresy  in  venturing  to 
doubt  it. 


54 


LECTURE  II. 


Now,  quite  apart  from  India,  I feel  most  strongly  that 
every  one  of  these  international  condemnations  is  to  he 
deprecated,  not  only  for  the  sake  of  the  self-conceited 
and  uncharitable  state  of  mind  from  which  they  spring, 
and  which  they  serve  to  strengthen  and  confirm,  but  for 
purely  logical  reasons  also,  namely  for  the  reckless  and 
slovenly  character  of  the  induction  on  which  such  con- 
clusions rest.  Because  a man  has  travelled  in  Greece 
and  has  been  cheated  by  his  dragoman,  or  been  carried 
off  by  brigands,  does  it  follow  that  all  Greeks,  ancient  as 
well  as  modern,  are  cheats  and  robbers,  or  that  they  ap- 
prove of  cheating  and  robbery  ? And  because  in  Cal- 
cutta, or  Bombay,  or  Madras,  Indians  who  are  brought 
before  judges,  or  who  hang  about  the  law-courts  and  the 
bazaars,  are  not  distinguished  by  an  unreasoning  and 
uncompromising  love  of  truth,  is  it  not  a very  vicious 
induction  to  say,  in  these  days  of  careful  reasoning,  that 
all  Hindus  are  liars— particularly  if  you  bear  in  mind 
that,  according  to  the  latest  census,  the  number  of  in- 
habitants of  that  vast  country  amounts  to  two  hundred 
and  fifty-three  millions.  Are  all  these  two  hundred  and 
fifty -three  millions  of  human  beings  to  be  set  down  as 
liars,  because  some  hundreds,  say  even  some  thousands  of 
Indians,  when  they  are  brought  to  an  English  court  of 
law,  on  suspicion  of  having  committed  a theft  or  a mur- 
der, do  not  speak  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing 
but  the  truth  ? Would  an  English  sailor,  if  brought  be- 
fore a dark-skinned  judge,  who  spoke  English  with  a 
strange  accent,  bow  down  before  him  and  confess  at  once 
any  misdeed  that  he  may  have  committed  ; and  would 
all  his  mates  rush  forward  and  eagerly  bear  witness 
against  him,  when  he  had  got  himself  into  trouble  ? 

The  rules  of  induction  are  general,  but  they  depend  on 
the  subjects  to  which  they  are  applied.  We  may,  to 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


55 


follow  an  Indian  proverb,  judge  of  a whole  field  of  rice 
by  tasting  one  or  two  grains  only,  but  if  we  apply  this 
rule  to  human  beings,  we  are  sure  to  fall  into  the  same 
mistake  as  the  English  chaplain  who  had  once,  on  board 
an  English  vessel,  christened  a French  child,  and  who 
remained  fully  convinced  for  the  rest  of  his  life  that  all 
French  babies  had  very  long  noses. 

I can  hardly  think  of  anything  that  you  could  safely 
predicate  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  India,  and  I confess  to 
a little  nervous  tremor  whenever  I see  a sentence  begin- 
ning with  “ The  people  of  India,”  or  even  with  “ All 
the  Brahmans,”  or  “All  the  Buddhists.”  What  fol- 
lows is  almost  invariably  wrong.  There  is  a greater 
difference  between  an  Afghan,  a Sikh,  a Hindustani,  a 
Bengalese,  and  a Dravidian  than  between  an  English- 
man, a Frenchman,  a German,  and  a Russian — yet  all 
are  classed  as  Hindus,  and  all  are  supposed  to  fall  under 
the  same  sweeping  condemnation. 

Let  me  read  you  what  Sir  John  Malcolm  says  about 
the  diversity  of  character  to  be  observed  by  any  one  who 
has  eyes  to  observe,  among  the  different  races  whom  we 
promiscuously  call  Hindus,  and  whom  we  promiscuously 
condemn  as  Hindus.  After  describing  the  people  of 
Bengal  as  weak  in  body  and  timid  in  mind,  and  those 
below  Calcutta  as  the  lowest  of  our  Hindu  subjects,  both 
in  character  and  appearance,  he  continues  : “ But  from 
the  moment  you  enter  the  district  of  Beliar,  the  Hindu 
inhabitants  are  a race  of  men,  generally  speaking,  not 
more  distinguished  by  their  lofty  stature  and  robust 
frame  than  they  are  for  some  of  the  finest  qualities  of 
the  mind.  They  are  brave,  generous,  humane,  and  their 
truth  is  as  remarkable  as  their  courage.” 

But  because  I feel  bound  to  protest  against  the  indis- 
criminating  abuse  that  has  been  heaped  on  the  people  of 


50 


LECTURE  II. 


India  from  the  Himalaya  to  Ceylon,  do  not  suppose  that 
it  is  my  wish  or  intention  to  draw  an  ideal  picture  of 
India,  leaving  out  all  the  dark  shades,  and  giving  you 
nothing  but  “sweetness  and  light.”  Having  never 
been  in  India  myself,  I can  only  claim  for  myself  the 
right  and  duty  of  every  historian,  namely,  the  right  of 
collecting  as  much  information  as  possible,  and  the  duty 
to  sift  it  according  to  the  recognized  rules  of  historical 
criticism.  My  chief  sources  of  information  with  regard 
to  the  national  character  of  the  Indians  in  ancient  times 
will  he  the  Avorks  of  Greek  writers  and  the  literature  of 
the  ancient  Indians  themselves.  For  later  times  we 
must  depend  on  the  statements  of  the  A’arious  conquerors 
of  India,  who  are  not  always  the  most  lenient  judges  of 
those  Avhom  they  may  find  it  more  difficult  to  rule  than 
to  conquer.  For  the  last  century  to  the  present  day,  I 
shall  have  to  appeal,  partly  to  the  authority  of  those 
aa'Iio,  after  spending  an  active  life  in  India  and  among 
the  Indians,  have  given  us  the  benefit  of  their  experi- 
ence in  published  Avorks,  partly  to  the  testimony  of  a 
number  of  distinguished  civil  servants  and  of  Indian 
gentlemen  also,  AA'liose  personal  acquaintance  I have 
enjoyed  in  England,  in  France,  and  in  Germany. 

As  I have  chiefly  to  address  myself  to  those  Avho  Avill 
themselves  be  the  rulers  and  administrators  of  India  in  the 
future,  alloAv  me  to  begin  Avith  the  opinions  which  some 
of  the  most  eminent,  and,  I believe,  the  most  judicious 
among  the  Indian  civil  servants  of  the  past  haATe  formed 
and  deliberately  expressed  on  the  point  Avhich  Ave  are  to- 
day discussing,  namely,  the  veracity  or  want  of  veracity 
among  the  Hindus. 

And  here  I must  begin  with  a remark  which  has  been 
made  by  others  also,  namely,  that  the  civil  servants  Avho 
AA-ent  to  India  in  the  beginning  of  this  century,  and 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


57 


under  the  auspices  of  the  old  East  India  Company,  many 
of  whom  I had  the  honor  and  pleasure  of  knowing  when 
I first  came  to  England,  seemed  to  have  seen  a great  deal 
more  of  native  life,  native  manners,  and  native  character 
than  those  whom  1 had  to  examine  five-and-twenty  years 
ago,  and  who  are  now,  after  a distinguished  career,  com- 
ing back  to  England.  India  is  no  longer  the  distant 
island  which  it  was,  where  each  Crusoe  had  to  make  a 
home  for  himself  as  best  he  could.  With  the  short  and 
easy  voyages  from  England  to  India  and  from  India  to 
England,  with  the  frequent  mails,  and  the  telegrams, 
and  the  Anglo-Indian  newspapers,  official  life  in  India 
has  assumed  the  character  of  a temporary  exile  rather, 
which  even  English  ladies  are  now  more  ready  to  share 
than  fifty  years  ago.  This  is  a difficulty  which  cannot 
be  removed,  but  must  be  met,  and  which,  I believe,  can 
best  be  met  by  inspiring  the  new  civil  servants  with  new 
and  higher  interests  during  their  stay  in  India. 

I knew  the  late  Professor  Wilson,  our  Boden  Professor 
of  Sanskrit  at  Oxford,  for  many  years,  and  often  listened 
with  deep  interest  to  his  Indian  reminiscences. 

Let  me  read  you  what  he,  Professor  Wilson,  says  of 
his  native  friends,  associates,  and  servants  : * 

“ I lived,  both  from  necessity  and  choice,  very  much 
among  the  Hindus,  and  had  opportunities  of  becoming 
acquainted  with  them  in  a greater  variety  of  situations 
than  those  in  which  they  usually  come  under  the  observa- 
tion of  Europeans.  In  the  Calcutta  mint,  for  instance, 
I was  in  daily  personal  communication  with  a numerous 
body  of  artificers,  mechanics,  and  laborers,  and  always 
found  among  them  cheerful  and  unwearied  industry, 
good-humored  compliance  with  the  will  of  their  superi- 


* Mill’s  “History  of  British  India,”  ed.  Wilson,  vol.  i.,p.  375. 


58 


LECTURE  II. 


ors,  and  a readiness  to  make  whatever  exertions  were 
demanded  from  them  ; there  was  among  them  no  drunk- 
enness, no  disorderly  conduct,  no  insubordination.  It 
would  not  be  true  to  say  that  there  was  no  dishonesty, 
but  it  was  comparatively  rare,  invariably  petty,  and 
much  less  formidable  than,  I believe,  it  is  necessary  to 
guard  against  in  other  mints  in  other  countries.  There 
was  considerable  skill  and  ready  docility.  So  far  from 
there  being  any  servility,  there  was  extreme  frankness, 
and  I should  say  that  where  there  is  confidence  without 
fear,  frankness  is  one  of  the  most  universal  features  in 
the  Indian  character.  Let  the  people  feel  sure  of  the 
temper  and  good-will  of  their  superiors,  and  there  is  an 
end  of  reserve  and  timidity,  without  the  slightest  depart- 
ure from  respect.  . . 

Then,  speaking  of  the  much-abused  Indian  Pandits, 
he  says  : “ The  studies  which  engaged  my  leisure 
brought  me  into  connection  with  the  men  of  learning, 
and  in  them  I found  the  similar  merits  of  industry,  in- 
telligence, cheerfulness,  frankness,  with  others  peculiar 
to  their  avocation.  A very  common  characteristic  of 
these'  men,  and  of  the  Hindus  especially,  was  a sim- 
plicity truly  childish,  and  a total  un acquaintance  with 
the  business  and  manners  of  life.  Where  that  feature 
was  lost,  it  was  chiefly  by  those  who  had  been  long 
familiar  with  Europeans.  Among  the  Pandits  or  the 
learned  Hindus  there  prevailed  great  ignorance  and 
great  dread  of  the  European  character.  There  is,  in- 
deed, very  little  intercourse  between  any  class  of  Euro- 
peans and  Hindu  scholars,  and  it  is  not  wonderful,  there- 
fore, that  mutual  misapprehension  should  prevail.” 

Speaking,  lastly,  of  the  higher  classes  in  Calcutta  and 
elsewhere,  Professor  Wilson  says  that  he  witnessed 
among  them  “ polished  manners,  clearness  and  compre- 


truthful  character  of  the  Hindus. 


59 


hensiveness  of  understanding,  liberality  of  feeling,  and 
independence  of  principle  that  would  have  stamped  them 
gentlemen  in  any  country  in  the  world.”  “ With  some 
of  this  class,”  he  adds,  “ I formed  friendships  which  I 
trust  to  enjoy  through  life.” 

I have  often  heard  Professor  Wilson  speak  in  the 
same,  and  in  even  stronger  terms  of  his  old  friends  in 
India,  and  his  correspondence  with  Ram  Comul  Sen,  the 
grandfather  of  Kesliub  Chunder  Sen,*  a most  orthodox, 
not  to  say  bigoted,  Hindu,  which  has  lately  been  pub- 
lished, shows  on  what  intimate  terms  Englishmen  and 
Hindus  may  be,  if  only  the  advances  are  made  on  the 
English  side. 

There  is  another  Professor  of  Sanskrit,  of  whom  your 
University  may  well  be  proud,  and  who  could  speak  on 
this  subject  with  far  greater  authority  than  1 can.  He 
too  will  tell  you,  and  1 have  no  doubt  has  often  told  you, 
that  if  only  you  look  out  for  friends  among  the  Hindus, 
you  will  find  them,  and  you  may  trust  them. 

There  is  one  book  which  for  many  years  x have  been 
in  the  habit  of  recommending,  and  another  against  which 
I have  always  been  warning  those  of  the  candidates  for 
the  Indian  Civil  Service  whom  I happened  to  see  at  Ox- 
ford ; and  I believe  both  the  advice  and  the  warning 
have  in  several  cases  borne  the  very  best  fruit.  The 
book  which  I consider  most  mischievous,  nay,  which  1 
hold  responsible  for  some  of  the  greatest  misfortunes  that 
have  happened  to  India,  is  Mill’s  u History  of  British 
India,”  even  with  the  antidote  against  its  poison,  which 
is  supplied  by  Professor  Wilson’s  notes.  The  book 
which  1 recommend,  and  which  I wish  might  be  pub- 

* Keshub  Chunder  Sen  is  the  present  spiritual  director  of  the 
Brahmo  Samar/,  the  theistic  organization  founded  by  the  late  Itaru- 
mohun  Roy.  —A.  W. 


GO 


LECTURE  II. 


lished  again  in  a cheaper  form,  so  as  to  make  it  more 
generally  accessible,  is  Colonel  Sleeman’s  “ Rambles  and 
Recollections  of  an  Indian  Official,”  published  in  1814, 
but  written  originally  in  1835-1830. 

Mill’s  “ History,”  no  doubt,  you  all  know,  particu- 
larly the  candidates  for  the  Indian  Civil  Service,  who,  I 
am  sorry  to  say,  are  recommended  to  read  it,  and  are  ex- 
amined in  it.  Still,  in  order  to  substantiate  my  strong 
condemnation  of  the  book,  I shall  have  to  give  a few 
proofs : 

Mill  in  his  estimate  of  the  Hindu  character  is  chiefly 
guided  by  Dubois,  a French  missionary,  and  by  Orme 
and  Euchanan,  Tennant,  and  Ward,  all  of  them  neither 
very  competent  nor  very  unprejudiced  judges.  Mill,* 
however,  picks  out  all  that  is  most  unfavorable  from 
their  works,  and  omits  the  qualifications  which  even 
these  writers  felt  bound  to  give  to  their  wholesale  con- 
demnation of  the  Hindus.  He  quotes  as  serious,  for  in- 
stance, what  was  said  in  joke,f  namely,  that  “ a Brah- 
man is  an  ant’s  nest  of  lies  and  impostures.”  Next  to 
the  charge  of  untruthfulness,  Mill  upbraids  the  Hindus 
for  what  he  calls  their  litigiousness.  He  writes  : j;  “As 
often  as  courage  fails  them  in  seeking  more  daring  grati- 
fication to  their  hatred  and  revenge,  their  malignity  finds 
a vent  in  the  channel  of  litigation.”  Without  imputing 
dishonorable  motives,  as  Mill  does,  the  same  fact  might 
he  stated  in  a different  way,  by  saying,  “As  often  as 
their  conscience  and  respect  of  law  keep  them  from 
seeking  more  daring  gratification  to  their  hatred  and 
revenge,  say  by  murder  or  poisoning,  their  trust  in  Eng- 
lish justice  leads  them  to  appeal  to  our  courts  of  law.” 
Dr.  Robertson,  in  his  “ Historical  Disquisitions  concern- 

* Mill’s  “History,”  ed.  Wilson,  vol.  i.,  p.  3G8. 

f L.  c.  p.  325.  f L.  c.  p.  329. 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


Gl 


ing  India,”  'x'  seems  to  have  considered  the  litigious  sub- 
tlety of  the  Hindus  as  a sign  of  high  civilization  rather 
than  of  barbarism,  but  he  is  sharply  corrected  by  Mr. 
Mill,  who  tells  him  that  “ nowhere  is  this  subtlety  car- 
ried higher  than  among  the  wildest  of  the  Irish.”  That 
courts  of  justice,  like  the  English,  in  which  a verdict 
was  not  to  be  obtained,  as  formerly  in  Mohammedan 
courts,  by  bribes  and  corruption,  should  at  first  have 
proved  very  attractive  to  the  Hindus,  need  not  surprise 
us.  But  is  it  really  true  that  the  Hindus  are  more  fond 
of  litigation  than  other  nations  ? If  we  consult  Sir 
Thomas  Munro,  the  eminent  Governor  of  Madras,  and 
the  powerful  advocate  of  the  llyot  war  settlements,  he 
tells  us  in  so  many  words  : f “I  have  had  ample  oppor- 
tunity of  observing  the  Hindus  in  every  situation,  and  I 
can  affirm,  that  they  are  not  litigious.”  $ 

But  Mill  goes  further  still,  and  in  one  place  he  actually 
assures  his  readers  § that  a “Brahman  may  put  a man 
to  death  when  he  lists.”  In  fact,  he  represents  the 
Hindus  as  such  a monstrous  mass  of  all  vices,  that,  as 
Colonel  Vans  Kennedy  ||  remarked,  society  could  not 
have  held  together  if  it  had  really  consisted  of  such 
reprobates  only.  Nor  docs  he  seem  to  see  the  full  bear- 
ing of  his  remarks.  Surely,  if  a Brahman  might,  as  he 
says,  put  a man  to  death  whenever  he  lists,  it  would  be 
the  strongest  testimony  in  their  favor  that  you  hardly 
ever  hear  of  their  availing  themselves  of  such  a privi- 
lege, to  say  nothing  of  the  fact — and  a fact  it  is — that, 
according  to  statistics,  the  number  of  capital  sentences 

* P.  21?.  Mill’s  “History,”  vol.  i.,  p.  329. 

t Mann,  VIII.  43,  says  : ‘‘Neither  a King  himself  nor  his  officers 
must  ever  promote  litigation  ; nor  ever  neglect  a lawsuit  instituted 
by  others.” 

§ Mill’s  “History,”  vol.  i.,  p.  327.  ||  L.  c.  p.  3G8. 


62 


LECTURE  It. 


was  one  in  every  10,000  in  England,  but  only  one  in 
every  million  in  Bengal.* 

Colonel  Sleeman’s  “Rambles”  ai'e  less  known  than 
they  deserve  to  be.  To  give  you  an  idea  of  the  man,  I 
must  read  you  some  extracts  from  the  book. 

Ilis  sketches  being  originally  addressed  to  his  sister, 
this  is  how  he  writes  to  her  : 

“ My  dear  Sister  : Were  any  one  to  ask  your  coun- 
trymen in  India,  what  had  been  their  greatest  source  of 
pleasure  while  there,  perhaps  nine  in  ten  would  say  the 
letters  which  they  receive  from  their  sisters  at  home. 

And  while  thus  contributing  so  much  to  our 
happiness,  they  no  doubt  tend  to  make  us  better  citizens 
of  the  world  and  servants  of  government  than  we 
should  otherwise  be  ; for  in  our  ‘ struggles  through  life  ’ 
in  India,  we  have  all,  more  or  less,  an  eye  to  the  appro- 
bation of  those  circles  which  our  kind  sisters  represent, 
who  may  therefore  be  considered  in  the  exalted  light  of 
a valuable  species  of  unpaid  magistracy  to  the  govern- 
ment of  India.” 

There  is  a touch  of  the  old  English  chivalry  even  in 
these  few  words  addressed  to  a sister  whose  approbation 
he  values,  and  with  whom  he  hoped  to  spend  the  winter 
of  his  days.  Having  been,  as  he  confesses,  idle  in  an- 
swering letters,  or  rather,  too  busy  to  find  time  for  long 
letters,  he  made  use  of  his  enforced  leisure,  while  on  his 
way  from  the  Nerbuddah  River  to  the  Himmaleh  Moun- 
tains, in  search  of  health,  to  give  to  his  sister  a full 
account  of  his  impressions  and  experiences  in  India. 

* See  Elphinstone,  “History  of  India,’'  ed.  Cowell,  p.  219,  note. 
“ Of  the  232  sentences  of  death  04  only  were  carried  out  in  England, 
while  the  59  sentences  of  death  in  Bengal  were  all  carried  out.” 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


G3 


Though  what  lie  wrote  was  intended  at  first  “ to  interest 
and  amuse  his  sister  only  and  the  other  members  of 
his  family  at  home,”  he  adds,  in  a more  serious  tone  : 
“ Of  one  thing  I must  beg  you  to  be  assured,  that  I 
have  nowhere  indulged  in  fiction,  either  in  the  narra- 
tive, the  recollections,  or  the  conversations.  What  I 
relate  on  the  testimony  of  others,  I believe  to  be  true  ; 
and  what  I relate  on  my  own,  you  may  rely  upon  as 
being  so.” 

When  placing  his  volumes  before  the  public  at  large 
in  1844,  he  expresses  a hope  that  they  may  “tend  to 
make  the  people  of  India  better  understood  by  those  of 
our  countrymen  whose  destinies  are  cast  among  them, 
and  inspire  more  kindly  feelings  toward  them.” 

You  may  ask  why  I consider  Colonel  Sleeman  so 
trustworthy  an  authority  on  the  Indian  character,  more 
trustworthy,  for  instance,  than  even  so  accurate  and 
unprejudiced  an  observer  as  Professor  Wilson.  My  an- 
swer is — because  Wilson  lived  chiefly  in  Calcutta,  while 
Colonel  Sleeman  saw  India,  where  alone  the  true  India 
can  be  seen,  namely,  in  the  village-communities.  For 
many  years  he  was  employed  as  Commissioner  for  the 
suppression  of  Thuggee.  The  Thugs  were  professional 
assassins,  who  committed  their  murders  under  a kind  of 
religious  sanction.  They  were  originally  “all  Moham- 
medans, but  for  a long  time  past  Mohammedans  and 
Hindus  had  been  indiscriminately  associated  in  the  gangs, 
the  former  class,  however,  still  predominating.”  * 

In  order  to  hunt  up  these  gangs,  Colonel  Sleeman  had 

* Sir  Cli.  Trevelyan,  Christianity  and  Hinduism,  1882,  p.  42. 

This  will  bo  news  to  many.  It  has  been  quite  common  to  in- 
clude the  Thugs  with  the  worshippers  of  Bliavani,  the  consort  of  Niva. 
The  word  signifies  a deceiver,  which  eliminates  it  from  every  re- 
ligious association.  A.  W. 


64 


LECTURE  II. 


constantly  to  live  among  the  people  in  the  country,  to 
gain  their  confidence,  and  to  watch  the  good  as  well  as 
the  bad  features  in  their  character. 

How  what  Colonel  Sleeman  continually  insists  on  is 
that  no  one  knows  the  Indians  who  does  not  know  them 
in  their  village-communities — what  we  should  now  call 
their  communes.  It  is  that  village-life  which  in  India 
has  given  its  peculiar  impress  to  the  Indian  character, 
more  so  than  in  any  other  country  we  know.  When  in 
Indian  history  we  hear  so  much  of  kings  and  emperors, 
of  rajahs  and  maharajahs,  we  are  apt  to  think  of  India  as 
an  Eastern  monarchy,  ruled  by  a central  power,  and 
without  any  trace  of  that  self-government  which  forms 
the  pride  of  England.  But  those  who  have  most  care- 
fully studied  the  political  life  of  India  tell  you  the  very 
opposite. 

The  political  unit,  or  the  social  cell  in  India  has  always 
been,  and,  in  spite  of  repeated  foreign  conquests,  is  still 
the  village-community.  Some  of  these  political  units 
will  occasionally  combine  or  be  combined  for  common 
purposes  (such  a confederacy  being  called  a gramayala), 
but  each  is  perfect  in  itself.  When  we  read  in  the  Laws 
of  Mann  * of  officers  appointed  to  rule  over  ten,  twenty, 
a hundred,  or  a thousand  of  these  villages,  that  means 
no  more  than  that  they  were  responsible  for  the  collec- 
tion of  taxes,  and  generally  for  the  good  behavior  of 
these  villages.  And  when,  in  later  times,  we  hear  of 
circles  of  eighty-four  villages,  the  so-called  Chourasees 
(Aaturasiti  f),  and  of  three  hundred  and  sixty  villages, 
this  too  seems  to  refer  to  fiscal  arrangements  only.  To 
the  ordinary  Hindu,  I mean  to  ninety-nine  in  every 

* Maim  VII.  115. 

f H.  M.  Elliot,  “Supplement  to  the  Glossary  of  Indian  Terms,” 
p.  151. 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


65 


hundred,  the  village  was  his  world,  and  the  sphere  of 
public  opinion,  with  its  beneficial  influences  on  individ- 
uals, seldom  extended  beyond  the  horizon  of  his  village.* 

Colonel  Sleeman  was  one  of  the  first  who  called  atten- 
tion to  the  existence  of  these  village-communities  in 
India,  and  their  importance  in  the  social  fabric  of  the 
whole  country  both  in  ancient  and  in  modern  times  ; and 
though  they  have  since  become  far  better  known  and 
celebrated  through  the  writings  of  Sir  Henry  Maine,  it 
is  still  both  interesting  and  instructive  to  read  Colonel 
Sleeman’ s account.  He  writes  as  a mere  observer,  and 
uninfluenced  as  yet  by  any  theories  on  the  development 
of  early  social  and  political  life  among  the  Aryan  nations 
in  general. 

I do  not  mean  to  say  that  Colonel  Sleeman  was  the 
first  who  pointed  out  the  palpable  fact  that  the  whole  of 
India  is  parcelled  out  into  estates  of  villages.  Even  so 
early  an  observer  as  Megasthenes  f seems  to  have  been 
struck  by  the  same  fact  when  he  says  that  “ in  India  the 
husbandmen  with  their  wives  and  children  live  in  the 
country,  and  entirely  avoid  going  into  town.”  What 
Colonel  Sleeman  was  the  first  to  point  out  was  that  all 

* I see  from  Dr.  Hunter’s  latest  statistical  tables  that  the  whole 
number  of  towns  and  villages  in  British  India  amounts  to  493,429. 
Out  of  this  number  448,320  have  less  than  1000  inhabitants,  and 
may  be  called  villages.  In  Bengal,  where  the  growth  of  towns  has 
been  most  encouraged  through  Government  establishments,  the 
total  number  of  homesteads  is  117,042,  and  more  than  half  of 
these  contain  less  than  200  inhabitants.  Only  10,077  towns  in 
Bengal  have  more  than  1000  inhabitants,  that  is,  no  more  than 
about  a seventeenth  part  of  all  the  settlements  are  anything  but 
what  we  should  call  substantial  villages.  In  the  North-Western 
Provinces  the  last  census  gives  us  105,124  villages,  against  297 
towns.  See  London  Times , 14th  Aug.  1882. 

\ “Ancient  India  as  described  by  Megasthenes  and  Arrian,”  by 
McCrindle,  p.  42, 


66 


LECTURE  II. 


the  native  virtues  of  the  Hindus  are  intimately  connected 
with  their  village-life. 

That  village-life,  however,  is  naturally  the  least 
known  to  English  officials,  nay,  the  very  presence  of  an 
English  official  is  often  said  to  be  sufficient  to  drive  away 
those  native  virtues  which  distinguish  both  the  private 
life  and  the  public  administration  of  justice  and  ecpiity 
in  an  Indian  village.*  Take  a man  out  of  his  village- 
community,  and  you  remove  him  from  all  the  restraints 
of  society.  He  is  out  of  his  element,  and,  under  temp- 
tation, is  more  likely  to  go  wrong  than  to  remain  true  to 
the  traditions  of  his  home-life.  Even  between  village 
and  village  the  usual  restraints  of  public  morality  are  not 
always  recognized.  What  would  be  called  theft  or  rob- 
bery at  home  is  called  a successful  raid  or  conquest  if 
directed  against  distant  villages  ; and  what  would  be 
falsehood  or  trickery  in  private  life  is  honored  by  the 
name  of  policy  and  diplomacy  if  successful  against  stran- 
gers. On  the  other  hand,  the  rules  of  hospitality  ap- 
plied oidy  to  people  of  other  villages,  and  a man  of  the 
same  village  could  never  claim  the  right  of  an  Atithi , or 
guest,  f 

Let  us  hear  now  what  Colonel  Sleeman  tells  us  about 
the  moral  character  of  the  members  of  these  village- 
communities,  j;  and  let  us  not  forget  that  the  Commis- 

* “ Perjury  seems  to  be  committed  by  the  meanest  and  encouraged 
by  some  of  the  better  sort  among  the  Hindus  and  Mussulmans, 
with  as  little  remorse  as  if  it  were  a proof  of  ingenuity,  or  even 
a merit.” — Sir  W.  Jones,  Address  to  Grand  Jury  at  Calcutta,  in 
Mill's  “History  of  India,”  vol.  i.,  p.  324.  “The  longer  we  possess  a 
province,  the  more  common  and  grave  does  perjury  become.” — Sir 
G.  Campbell,  quoted  by  Rev.  Samuel  Johnson,  “ Oriental  Religions, 
India,”  p.  288. 

f Vasishtta,  translated  by  Biihler,  VIII.  8. 

+ Mr.  J.  D.  Baldwin,  author  of  “Prehistoric  Nations,”  declares 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


G7 


sionor  for  the  suppression  of  Thuggee  had  ample  oppor- 
tunities of  seeing  the  dark  as  well  as  the  bright  side  of 
the  Indian  character. 

He  assures  us  that  falsehood  or  lying  between  mem- 
bers of  the  same  village  is  almost  unknown.  Speaking 
of  some  of  the  most  savage  tribes,  the  Gonds,  for 
instance,  he  maintains  that  nothing  would  induce  them 
to  tell  a lie,  though  they  would  think  nothing  of  lifting 
a herd  of  cattle  from  a neighboring  plain. 

Of  these  men  it  might  perhaps  be  said  that  they  have 
not  yet  learned  the  value  of  a lie  ; yet  even  such  blissful 
ignorance  ought  to  count  in  a nation’s  character.  But  I 
am  not  pleading  here  for  Gonds,  or  Bhils,  or  Santhals, 
and  other  non-Aryan  tribes.  I am  speaking  of  the 
Aryan  and  more  or  less  civilized  inhabitants  of  India. 
Now  among  them,  where  rights,  duties,  and  interests 
begin  to  clash  in  one  and  I lie  same  village,  public  opin- 

that  this  system  of  village-communities  existed  in  India  long  before 
the  Aryan  conquest.  He  attributes  it  to  Cushite  or  iEthiopic  in- 
fluence. and  with  great  plausibility.  Nevertheless,  the  same  system 
flourished  in  prehistoric  Greece,  even  till  the  Roman  conquests. 
Mr.  Palgrave  observed  it  existing  in  Arabia.  “ Oman  is  less  a king- 
dom than  an  aggregation  of  municipalities,”  he  remarks  ; “ each 
town,  each  village  has  its  separate  existence  and  coloration,  while 
towns  and  villages,  in  their  turn,  are  subjected  to  one  or  other  of 
the  ancestral  chiefs.”  The  Ionian  and  Phoenician  cities  existed  by 
a similar  tenure,  as  did  also  the  Free  Cities  of  Europe.  It  appears, 
indeed,  to  have  been  the  earlier  form  of  rule.  Megasthenes  noticed 
it  in  India.  “ The  village-communities,”  says  Sir  Charles  Metcalf, 

‘ ‘ are  little  republics,  having  everything  they  want  within  them- 
selves, and  almost  independent  of  any  foreign  relations.  They  seem 
to  last  where  nothing  else  lasts.”  These  villages  usually  consist  of 
the  holders  of  the  land,  those  who  farm  and  cultivate  it,  the  estab- 
lished village-servants,  priest,  blacksmith,  carpenter,  accountant, 
washerman,  potter,  barber,  watchman,  shoemaker,  etc.  The  tenure 
and  law  of  inheritance  varies  with  the  different  native  races,  but  ten- 
antship for  a specific  period  seems  to  be  the  most  common. — A.  W. 


68 


LECTURE  II. 


ion,  in  its  limited  sphere,  seems  strong  enough  to  deter 
even  an  evil-disposed  person  from  telling  a falsehood. 
The  fear  of  the  gods  also  has  not  yet  lost  its  power.* 
In  most  villages  there  is  a sacred  tree,  a pipal -tree  (Ficus 
Indica),  and  the  gods  are  supposed  to  delight  to  sit 
among  its  leaves,  and  listen  to  the  music  of  their  rust- 
ling. The  deponent  takes  one  of  these  leaves  in  his 
hand,  and  invokes  the  god,  who  sits  above  him,  to  crush 
him,  or  those  dear  to  him,  as  he  crushes  the  leaf  in  his 
hand,  if  he  speaks  anything  but  the  truth.  lie  then 
plucks  and  crushes  the  leaf,  and  states  what  he  has  to 
say. 

The  pipal-tree  is  generally  supposed  to  be  occupied  by 
one  of  the  Hindu  deities,  while  the  large  cotton-tree, 
particularly  among  the  wilder  tribes,  is  supposed  to  be 
the  abode  of  local  gods,  all  the  more  terrible  because 
entrusted  with  the  police  of  a small  settlement  only.  In 
their  punchayets,  Sleeman  tells  us,  men  adhere  habitu- 
ally and  religiously  to  the  truth,  and  “ I have  had  before 
me  hundreds  of  cases,”  he  says,  “ in  which  a man’s  prop- 
erty, liberty,  and  life  has  depended  upon  his  telling  a 
lie,  and  he  has  refused  to  tell  it.” 

Could  many  an  English  judge  say  the  same  ? 

In  their  own  tribunals  under  the  pipal-tree  or  cotton- 
tree,  imagination  commonly  did  what  the  deities,  who 
were  supposed  to  preside,  had  the  credit  of  doing.  If 
the  deponent  told  a lie,  he  believed  that  the  god  who  sat 
on  his  sylvan  throne  above  him,  and  searched  the  heart 
of  man,  must  know  it  ; and  from  that  moment  he  knew 
no  rest,  he  was  always  in  dread  of  his  vengeance.  If 
any  accident  happened  to  him,  or  to  those  dear  to  him, 
it  was  attributed  to  this  otfended  deity  ; and  if  no  acci- 


* “ Sleeman,”  vol.  ii.,  p.  Ill, 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HTNOUS. 


G9 


dent  happened,  some  evil  was  brought  about  by  his  own 
disordered  imagination.*  It  was  an  excellent  supersti- 
tion,  inculcated  in  the  ancient  law-books,  that  the  ances- 
tors watched  the  answer  of  a witness,  because,  according 
as  it  was  true  or  false,  they  themselves  would  go  to 
heaven  or  to  liell.f 

Allow  me  to  read  you  the  abstract  of  a conversation 
between  an  English  official  and  a native  law-officer  as 
reported  by  Colonel  Sleeman.  The  native  lawyer  was 
asked  what  he  thought  would  be  the  effect  of  an  act  to 
dispense  with  oaths  on  the  Koran  and  Ganges-water,  and 
to  substitute  a solemn  declaration  made  in  the  name  of 
God,  and  under  the  same  penal  liabilities  as  if  the  Koran 
or  Ganges-water  had  been  in  the  deponent’s  hand. 

“ I have  practiced  in  the  courts,”  the  native  said, 
“ for  thirty  years,  and  during  that  time  1 have  found 
only  three  kinds  of  witnesses — two  of  whom  would,  by 
such  an  act,  be  left  precisely  where  they  were,  while  the 
third  would  be  released  by  it  from  a very  salutary 
check.” 

“ And,  pray,  what  are  the  three  classes  into  which 
you  divide  the  witnesses  in  our  courts  ?” 

“ First,  Sir,  are  those  who  will  always  tell  the  truth, 
whether  they  are  required  to  state  what  they  know  in 
the  form  of  an  oath  or  not.” 

“ Do  you  think  this  a large  class  ?” 

“ Yes,  I think  it  is  ; and  1 have  found  among  them 
many  whom  nothing  on  earth  could  make  to  swerve 
from  the  truth.  Do  what  you  please,  you  could  never 
frighten  or  bribe  them  into  a deliberate  falsehood. 

“ The  second  are  those  who  will  not  hesitate  to  tell  a 
lie  when  they  have  a motive  for  it,  and  are  not  restrained 


* Sleeman,  “ Rambles,”  vol.  ii. , p.  110. 


f Vasishtta  XVI.  32. 


70 


LECTURE  IT. 


by  an  oath.  In  taking  an  oath,  they  are  afraid  of  two 
things,  the  anger  of  God  and  the  odium  of  men. 

“ Only  three  days  ago,”  he  continued,  “ I required  a 
power  of  attorney  from  a lady  of  rank,  to  enable  me  to 
act  for  her  in  a case  pending  before  the  court  in  this 
town.  It  was  given  to  me  by  her  brother,  and  two  wit- 
nesses came  to  declare  that  she  had  given  it.  ‘Now,’ 
said  I,  £ this  lady  is  known  to  live  under  the  curtain,  and 
you  will  be  asked  by  the  judge  whether  you  saw  her 
give  this  paper  : what  will  you  say  ? ’ They  both 
replied  : £ If  the  judge  asks  us  the  question  without  an 
oath,  we  will  say  “ Yes  /”  it  will  save  much  trouble,  and 
we  know  that  she  did  give  the  paper,  though  we  did  not 
really  see  her  give  it  ; but  if  he  puts  the  Koran  into  our 
hands,  we  must  say  “ for  we  should  otherwise  be 

pointed  at  by  all  the  town  as  perjured  wretches — our 
enemies  would  soon  tell  everybody  that  we  had  taken  a 
false  oath.’ 

“ Now,”  the  native  lawyer  went  on,  “ the  form  of  an 
oath  is  a great  check  on  this  sort  of  persons. 

“ The  third  class  consists  of  men  who  will  tell  lies 
whenever  they  have  a sufficient  motive,  whether  they 
have  the  Koran  or  Ganges-water  in  their  hand  or  not. 
Nothing  will  ever  prevent  their  doing  so  ; and  the  dec- 
laration which  you  propose  would  be  just  as  well  as  any 
other  for  them.” 

“ Which  class  do  you  consider  the  most  numerous  of 
the  three  ?” 

“ I consider  the  second  the  most  numerous,  and  wish 
the  oath  to  be  retained  for  them.” 

“ That  is,  of  all  the  men  you  see  examined  in  our 
courts,  you  think  the  most  come  under  the  class  of  those 
who  will,  under  the  influence  of  strong  motives,  tell  lies,  if 
they  have  not  the  Koran  or  Ganges-water  in  their  hands  ?” 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


71 


“ Yes.” 

“ But  do  not  a great  many  of  those  whom  you  con- 
sider to  he  included  among  the  second  class  come  from 
the  village-communities — the  peasantry  of  the  country  ?” 
“ Yes.” 

“ And  do  you  not  think  that  the  greatest  part  of  those 
men  who  will  tell  lies  in  the  court,  under  the  influence 
of  strong  motives,  unless  they  have  the  Koran  or 
Ganges- water  in  their  hands,  would  refuse  to  tell  lies,  if 
questioned  before  the  people  of  their  villages,  among  the 
circle  in  which  they  live  ?” 

“ Of  course  I do  ; three-fourths  of  those  who  do  not 
scruple  to  lie  in  the  courts,  would  be  ashamed  to  lie 
before  their  neighbors,  or  the  elders  of  their  village.” 

“ You  think  that  the  people  of  the  village-communi- 
ties are  more  ashamed  to  tell  lies  before  their  neighbors 
than  the  people  of  towns  ?” 

“ IVluch  more — there  is  no  comparison.” 

“ And  the  people  of  towns  and  cities  bear  in  India  but 
a small  proportion  to  the  people  of  the  village-communi- 
ties ?’  ’ 

“ I should  think  a very  small  proportion  indeed.” 

“ Then  you  think  that  in  the  mass  of  the  population 
of  India,  out  of  our  courts , the  first  class,  or  those  who 
speak  truth,  whether  they  have  the  Koran  or  Ganges- 
water  in  their  hands  or  not,  would  be  found  more 
numerous  than  the  other  two  ?” 

“ Certainly  I do  ; if  they  were  always  to  be  ques- 
tioned before  their  neighbors  or  elders,  so  that  they  could 
feel  that  their  neighbors  and  elders  could  know  what 
they  say.  ’ ’ 

It  was  from  a simple  sense  of  justice  that  I felt  bound 
to  quote  this  testimony  of  Colonel  Sleeman  as  to  the 
truthful  character  of  the  natives  of  India,  when  left  to 


LECTURE  II. 


72 

themselves.  My  interest  lies  altogether  with  the  people 
of  India,  when  left  to  themselves , and  historically  I 
should  like  to  draw  a line  after  the  year  one  thousand 
after  Christ.  "When  yon  read  the  atrocities  committed 
by  the  Mohammedan  conquerors  of  India  from  that  time 
to  the  time  when  England  stepped  in  and,  whatever  may 
be  said  by  her  envious  critics,  made,  at  all  events,  the 
broad  principles  of  our  common  humanity  respected  once 
more  in  India,  the  wonder,  to  my  mind,  is  how  any 
nation  could  have  survived  such  an  Inferno  without 
being  turned  into  devils  themselves. 

hfow,  it  is  quite  true  that  during  the  two  thousand 
years  which,  precede  the  time  of  Mahmud  of  Gazni, 
India  has  had  but  few  foreign  visitors,  and  few  foreign 
critics  ; still  it  is  surely  extremely  strange  that  whenever, 
either  in  Greek,  or  in  Chinese,  or  in  Persian,  or  in 
Arab  writings,  we  meet  with  any  attempts  at  describing 
the  distinguishing  features  in  the  national  character  of 
the  Indians,  regard  for  truth  and  justice  should  always 
be  mentioned  first. 

Ktesias , the  famous  Greek  physician  of  Artaxerxes 
Mnemon  (present  at  the  battle  of  Cunaxa,  404  b.c.),  the 
first  Greek  writer  who  tells  us  anything  about  the  char- 
acter of  the  Indians,  such  as  he  heard  it  described  at  the 
Persian  court,  has  a special  chapter  “ On  the  Justice  of 
the  Indians.”* 

Megasthenes,  f the  ambassador  of  Seleucus  Nicator  at 
the  court  of  Sandrocottus  in  Palibothra  (Patfaliputra,  the 
modern  Patna),  states  that  thefts  were  extremely  rare, 
and  that  they  honored  truth  and  virtue.  \ 

* Ktesire  Fragmenta  (ed.  Didot),  p.  81. 

f See  “ Indian  Antiquary,”  187G,  p.  333. 

t Megastlienis  Fragmenta  (ed.  Didot)  in  “ Fragm.  Histor.  Graec.” 
vol.  li. , p.  426  b : ’AhijQeiav  re  oftoiu f nai  aper/jv  arrodiXovrai. 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


73 


A rrian  (in  the  second  century,  the  pupil  of  Epictetus), 
when  speaking  of  the  public  overseers  or  superintend- 
ents in  India,  says  : * “ They  oversee  what  goes  on  in  the 
country  or  towns,  and  report  everything  to  the  king, 
where  the  people  have  a king,  and  to  the  magistrates, 
where  the  people  are  self-governed,  and  it  is  against  use 
and  wont  for  these  to  give  in  a false  report  ; but  indeed 
no  Indian  is  accused  of  lying,  f 

The  Chinese,  who  come  next  in  order  of  time,  bear 
the  same,  I believe,  unanimous  testimony  in  favor  of 
the  honesty  and  veracity  of  the  Hindus.  [The  earliest 
witness  is  Su-we,  a relative  of  Fan-chen,  King  of  Siam, 
wdio  between  222  and  227  a.d.  sailed  round  the  whole 
of  India,  till  he  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Indus,  and 
then  explored  the  country.  After  his  return  to  Sinto, 
he  received  four  Yueh-chi  horses,  sent  by  a king  of 
India  as  a present  to  the  King  of  Siam  and  his  ambassa- 
dor. At  the  time  when  these  horses  arrived  in  Siam  (it 
took  them  four  years  to  travel  there),  there  was  staying 
at  the  court  of  Siam  an  ambassador  of  the  Emperor  of 
China,  Khang-thai,  and  this  is  the  -account  which  he 
received  of  the  kingdom  of  India  : “ It  is  a kingdom 

in  which  the  religion  of  Buddha  flourishes.  The  inhabi- 
tants are  straightforward  and  honest,  and  the  soil  is 
very  fertile.  The  king  is  called  Meu-lun,  and  his  capi- 
tal is  surrounded  by  walls,”  etc.  This  was  in  about  231 
a.d.  In  605  we  hear  again  of  the  Emperor  Yang-ti 
sending  an  ambassador,  Fei-tu,  to  India,  and  this  is  what 
among  other  things  he  points  out  as  peculiar  to  the 
Hindus:  “ They  believe  in  solemn  oaths.”]:):  Let  me 

quote  Iliouen-thsang,  the  most  famous  of  the  Chinese 

* Indica,  cap.  xii.  6. 

f See  McCrindle  in  “ Indian  Antiquary,”  1876,  p.  92. 

\ See  Stanislas  Julien,  Journal  Asiatique,  1847,  Aout,  pp.  98,  105. 


74 


LECTURE  H. 


Buddhist  pilgrims,  who  visited  India  in  the  seventh  cen- 
tury.* * * § “ Though  the  Indians,”  he  writes,  “ are  of  a light 
temperament,  they  are  distinguished  by  the  straightfor- 
wardness and  honesty  of  their  character.  With  regard 
to  riches,  they  never  take  anything  unjustly  ; with  regard 
to  justice,  they  make  even  excessive  concessions.  . . . 
Straightforwardness  is  the  distinguishing  feature  of  their 
administration.” 

If  we  turn  to  the  accounts  given  by  the  Mohammedan 
conquerors  of  India,  we  find  Idrisi,  in  his  Geography 
(written  in  the  eleventh  century),  summing  up  their 
opinion  of  the  Indians  in  the  following  words  : f 

“ The  Indians  are  naturally  inclined  to  justice,  and 
never  depart  from  it  in  their  actions.  Their  good  faith, 
honesty,  and  fidelity  to  their  engagements  are  well 
knowm,  and  they  are  so  famous  for  these  qualities  that 
people  flock  to  their  country  from  every  side.” 

Again,  in  the  thirteenth  century,  Shems-ed-din  Abu 
Abdallah  quotes  the  following  judgment  of  Bedi  ezr 
Zemin  : “ The  Indians  are  innumerable,  like  grains  of 
sand,  free  from  _all  deceit  and  violence.  They  fear 
neither  death  nor  life.  ”j; 

In  the  thirteenth  century  we  have  the  testimony  of 
Marco  Polo,§  who  thus  speaks  of  the  Abraiaman,  a name 
by  w’hich  he  seems  to  mean  the  Brahmans  who,  though 
not  traders  by  profession,  might  well  have  been  em- 
ployed for  great  commercial  transactions  by  the  king. 
This  was  particularly  the  case  during  times  which  the 


* Vol.  ii. , p.  83. 

f Elliot,  “History  of  India,”  vol.  i.,  p.  88. 

\ See  Mehren  : “ Manuel  de  la  Cosmograpliie  du  moyen  age,  tra- 
duction de  l’ouvrage  de  Shems-ed-din  Abou  Abdallah  de  Damas. 
Paris  : Leroux,  1874,  p.  371. 

§ “ Marco  Polo,”  ed.  H.  Yule,  vol.  ii.,  p.  350. 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


75 


Brahmans  would  call  times  of  distress,  when  many 
things  were  allowed  which  at  other  times  were  forbidden 
by  the  laws.  “ You  must  know,”  Marco  Polo  says, 
“ that  these  Abraiaman  are  the  best  merchants  in  the 
world,  and  the  most  truthful,  for  they  would  not  tell  a 
lie  for  anything  on  earth.” 

In  the  fourteenth  century  we  have  Friar  Jordanus, 
who  goes  out  of  his  way  to  tell  us  that  the  people  of 
Lesser  India  (South  and  Western  India)  are  true  in 
speech  and  eminent  in  justice.* 

In  the  fifteenth  century,  Ivamal-eddin  Abd-errazak 
Samarkandi  (1-113-1482),  who  went  as  ambassador  of  the 
Khakan  to  the  prince  of  Kalikut  and  to  the  King  of 
Vidyanagara  (about  1110-1115),  bears  testimony  to  the 
perfect  security  which  merchants  enjoy  in  that  country. f 

In  the  sixteenth  century,  Abu  Fazl,  the  minister  of 
the  Emperor  Akbar,  says  in  his  Ayin  Akbari  : “ The 

Hindus  are  religious,  affable,  cheerful,  lovers  of  justice, 
given  to  retirement,  able  in  business,  admirers  of  truth, 
grateful  and  of  unbounded  fidelity  ; and  their  soldiers 
know  not  what  it  is  to  fly  from  the  held  of  battle,  j; 

And  even  in  cpiite  modern  times  the  Mohammedans 
seem  willing  to  admit  that  the  Hindus,  at  all  events  in 
their  dealings  with  Hindus,  are  more  straightforward 
than  Mohammedans  in  their  dealings  with  Mohamme- 
dans. 

Thus  Meer  Sulamut  Ali,  a venerable  old  Mussulman, 
and,  as  Colonel  Sleeman  says,  a most  valuable  public  ser- 
vant, was  obliged  to  admit  that  “ a Hindu  may  feel  him- 

* “ Marco  Polo,”  vol.  ii. , p.  354. 

j “ Notices  des  Manuscrits,”  tom.  xiv.,  p.  436.  He  seems  to  have 
been  one  of  the  first  to  state  that  the  Persian  text  of  the  Ivalilah  and 
Dimna  was  derived  from  the  wise  people  of  India. 

t Samuel  Johnson,  “ India,”  p.  294. 


re 


LECTURE  II. 


self  authorized  to  take  in  a Mussulman,  and  might  even 
think  it  meritorious  to  do  so  ; but  he  would  never  think 
it  meritorious  to  take  in  one  of  his  own  religion. 
There  are  no  less  than  seventy-two  sects  of  Mohamme- 
dans ; and  every  one  of  these  sects  would  not  only  take 
in  the  followers  of  every  other  religion  on  earth,  but 
every  member  of  every  one  of  the  other  seventy-one 
sects  ; and  the  nearer  that  sect  is  to  his  own,  the  greater 
the  merit  of  taking  in  its  members.* 

So  I could  go  on  quoting  from  book  after  book,  and 
again  and  again  we  should  see  how  it  was  love  of  truth 
that  struck  all  the  people  who  came  in  contact  with 
India,  as  the  prominent  feature  in  the  national  character 
of  its  inhabitants.  No  one  ever  accused  them  of  false- 
hood. There  must  surely  be  some  ground  for  this,  for 
it  is  not  a remark  that  is  frequently  made  by  travellers 
in  foreign  countries,  even  in  our  time,  that  their  inhabi- 
tants invariably  speak  the  truth.  Read  the  accounts  of 
English  travellers  in  France,  and  you  will  find  very  little 
said  about  French  honesty  and  veracity,  while  French 
accounts  of  England  are  seldom  without  a fling  at  Per- 
jide  Albion  ! 

But  if  all  this  is  true,  how  is  it,  you  may  well  ask, 
that  public  opinion  in  England  is  so  decidedly  unfriendly 
to  the  people  of  India  ; at  the  utmost  tolerates  and 
patronizes  them,  but  will  never  trust  them,  never  treat 
them  on  terms  of  equality  ? 

I have  already  liiuted  at  some  of  the  reasons.  Public 
opinion  with  regard  to  India  is  made  up  in  England 
chiefly  by  those  who  have  spent  their  lives  in  Calcutta, 
Bombay,  Madras,  or  some  other  of  the  principal  towns 
in  India.  The  native  element  in  such  towns  contains 


* Sleeman,  “ Rambles,”  vol.  i.,  p.  63. 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HIHDUS. 


mostly  the  most  unfavorable  specimens  of  the  Indian 
population.  An  insight  into  the  domestic  life  of  the 
more  respectable  classes,  even  in  towns,  is  difficult  to 
obtain  ; and,  when  it  is  obtained,  it  is  extremely  difficult 
to  judge  of  their  manners  according  to  our  standard  of 
what  is  proper,  respectable,  or  gentlemanlike.  The 
misunderstandings  are  frequent  and  often  most  gro- 
tesque ; and  such,  we  must  confess,  is  human  nature, 
that  when  we  hear  the  different  and  often  most  conflict- 
ing accounts  of  the  character  of  the  Hindus,  we  are  nat- 
urally skeptical  with  regard  to  unsuspected  virtues 
among  them,  while  we  are  quite  disposed  to  accept  un- 
favorable accounts  of  their  character. 

Lest  I should  seem  to  be  pleading  too  much  on  the 
native  side  of  the  question,  and  to  exaggerate  the  diffi- 
culty of  forming  a correct  estimate  of  the  character  of 
the  Hindus,  let  me  appeal  to  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guished, learned,  and  judicious  members  of  the  Indian 
Civil  Service,  the  author  of  the  “History  of  India,” 
Mountstuart  Elphinstone.  “ Englishmen  in  India,”* 
he  says,  “ have  less  opportunity  than  might  be  expected 
of  forming  opinions  of  the  native  character.  Even  in 
England,  few  know  much  of  the  people  beyond  their 
own  class,  and  what  they  do  know,  they  learn  from 
newspapers  and  publications  of  a description  which  does 
not  exist  in  India.  In  that  country  also,  religion  and 
manners  put  bars  to  our  intimacy  with  the  natives,  and 
limit  the  number  of  transactions  as  well  as  the  free  com- 
munication of  opinions.  We  know  nothing  of  the  inte- 
rior of  families  but  by  report,  and  have  no  share  in 
those  numerous  occurrences  of  life  in  which  the  amiable 
parts  of  character  are  most  exhibited.  ” “ Missionaries  of 


* Elphinstone’ s “History  of  India,"  ed.  Cowell,  p.  213. 


78 


LECTURE  II. 


a different  religion,*  judges,  police-magistrates,  officers 
of  revenue  or  customs,  and  even  diplomatists,  do  not  see 
the  most  virtuous  portion  of  a nation,  nor  any  portion, 
unless  when  influenced  by  passion,  or  occupied  by  some 
personal  interest.  What  we  do  see  we  judge  by  our  own 
standard.  We  conclude  that  a man  who  cries  like  a 
child  on  slight  occasions  must  always  be  incapable  of 
acting  or  suffering  with  dignity  ; and  that  one  who 
allows  himself  to  be  called  a liar  would  not  be  ashamed 
of  any  baseness.  Our  writers  also  confound  the  distinc- 
tions of  time  and  place  ; they  combine  in  one  character 
the  Maratta  and  the  Bengalese,  and  tax  the  present 
generation  with  the  crimes  of  the  heroes  of  the  Maha- 
bharata.  It  might  be  argued,  in  opposition  to  many  un- 
favorable testimonies,  that  those  who  have  known  the 
Indians  longest  have  always  the  best  opinion  of  them  ; 
but  this  is  rather  a compliment  to  human  nature  than  to 
them,  since  it  is  true  of  every  other  people.  It  is  more 
in  point,  that  all  persons  who  have  retired  from  India 
think  better  of  the  people  they  have  left,  after  compar- 
ing them  with  others,  even  of  the  most  justly-admired 
nations.” 

But  what  is  still  more  extraordinary  than  the  ready 
acceptance  of  judgments  unfavorable  to  the  character  of 
the  Hindus,  is  the  determined  way  in  which  public  opin- 
ion, swayed  by  the  statements  of  certain  unfavorable 
critics,  has  persistently  ignored  the  evidence  which 
members  of  the  Civil  Service,  officers  and  statesmen — 
men  of  the  highest  authority — have  given  again  and 
again,  in  direct  opposition  to  these  unfavorable  opinions. 

* This  statement  may  well  be  doubted.  The  missionary  staff  in 
India  is  very  large  and  has  been  for  years  past.  There  is  no  reason  to 
doubt  that  many  of  its  members  are  well  informed  respecting  Hindoo 
character  in  all  grades  of  society. — Am.  Pubs. 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


79 


Here,  too,  I must  ask  to  be  allowed  to  quote  at  least  a 
few  of  these  witnesses  on  the  other  side. 

"Warren  Hastings  thus  speaks  of  the  Hindus  in  general  : 
“ They  are  gentle  and  benevolent,  more  susceptible  of 
gratitude  for  kindness  shown  them,  and  less  prompted  to 
vengeance  for  wrongs  inflicted  than  any  people  on  the 
face  of  the  earth  ; faithful,  affectionate,  submissive  to 
legal  authority.” 

Bishop  Heber  said  : “The  Hindus  are  brave,  court- 
eous, intelligent,  most  eager  for  knowledge  and  improve- 
ment ; sober,  industrious,  dutiful  to  parents,  affection- 
ate to  their  children,  uniformly  gentle  and  patient,  and 
more  easily  affected  by  kindness  and  attention  to  their 
wants  and  feelings  than  any  people  1 ever  met  with.”* 
Elphinstone  states  : “ Ho  set  of  people  among  the 
Hindus  are  so  depraved  as  the  dregs  of  our  own  great 
towns.  The  villagers  are  everywhere  amiable,  affec- 
tionate to  their  families,  kind  to  their  neighbors,  and 
toward  all  but  the  government  honest  and  sincere.  In- 
cluding the  Thugs  and  Dacoits,  the  mass  of  crime  is  less 
in  India  than  in  England.  The  Thugs  are  almost  a 
separate  nation,  and  the  Dacoits  are  desperate  ruffians  in 
gangs.  The  Hindus  are  mild  and  gentle  people,  more 
merciful  to  prisoners  than  any  other  Asiatics.  Their 
freedom  from  gross  debauchery  is  the  point  in  which 
they  appear  to  most  advantage  ; and  their  superiority  in 
purity  of  manners  is  not  flattering  to  our  self-esteem.  ”f 
Yet  Elphinstone  can  be  most  severe  on  the  real  faults 
of  the  people  of  India.  He  states  that,  at  present,  want 
of  veracity  is  one  of  their  prominent  vices,  but  he  adds  % 
“ that  such  deceit  is  most  common  in  people  connected 

* Samuel  Johnson,  “ India,”  p.  293. 

f See  “ History  of  India,”  pp.  375-381.  f L.  c.,  p.  215. 


80 


LECTURE  IT. 


with  government,  a class  which  spreads  far  in  India,  as, 
from  the  nature  of  the  land-revenue,  the  lowest  villager 
is  often  obliged  to  resist  force  by  fraud.”* 

Sir  John  Malcolm  writes  : f “ I have  hardly  ever 
known  where  a person  did  understand  the  language,  or 
where  a calm  communication  was  made  to  a native  of 
India,  through  a well-informed  and  trustworthy  me- 
dium, that  the  result  did  not  prove,  that  what  had  at 
first  been  stated  as  falsehood  had  either  proceeded  from 
fear  or  from  misapprehension.  I by  no  means  wish  to 
state  that  our  Indian  subjects  are  more  free  from  this 
vice  than  other  nations  that  occupy  a nearly  equal  posi- 
tion in  society,  but  I am  positive  that  they  are  not  more 
addicted  to  untruth.” 

Sir  Thomas  Munro  bears  even  stronger  testimony. 
He  writes  : \ “ If  a good  system  of  agriculture,  unrival- 
led manufacturing  skill,  a capacity  to  produce  whatever 
can  contribute  to  either  convenience  or  luxury,  schools 
established  in  every  village  for  teaching  reading,  writ- 
ing, and  arithmetic, § the  general  practice  of  hospitality 
and  charity  among  each  other,  and,  above  all,  a treatment 
of  the  female  sex  full  of  confidence,  respect,  and  deli- 

* “ History  of  India,”  p.  218. 

■f  Mill's  “ History  of  India,”  ed.  Wilson,  vol.  i.,  p.  370. 

t L.  c.,  p.  371. 

£ Sir  Thomas  Munro  estimated  the  children  educated  at  public 
schools  in  the  Madras  presidency  as  less  than  one  in  three.  But  low 
as  it  was,  it  was,  as  he  justly  remarked,  a higher  rate  than  existed 
till  very  lately  in  most  countries  of  Europe. — Elphinstone,  “ Hist,  of 
India,”  p.  205. 

In  Bengal  there  existed  no  less  than  80,000  native  schools,  though, 
doubtless,  for  the  most  part,  of  a poor  quality.  According  to  a 
Government  Report  of  1835,  there  was  a village-school  for  every  400 
persons. — Missionary  Intelligencer,”  IX.  183-193. 

Ludlow  (“  British  India,”  I.  62)  writes  : “ In  every  Hindu  village 
which  has  retained  its  old  form  I am  assured  that  the  children  gen- 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


81 


cacy,  are  among  the  signs  which  denote  a civilized  peo- 
ple— then  the  Hindus  are  not  inferior  to  the  nations  of 
Europe— and  if  civilization  is  to  become  an  article  of 
trade  between  England  and  India,  I am  convinced  that 
England  will  gain  by  the  import  cargo.” 

My  own  experience  with  regard  to  the  native  charac- 
ter has  been,  of  course,  very  limited.  Those  Hindus 
whom  I have  had  the  pleasure  to  know  personally  in 
Europe  may  be  looked  upon  as  exceptional,  as  the  best 
specimens,  it  may  be,  that  India  could  produce.  Also, 
my  intercourse  with  them  has  naturally  been  such  that  it 
could  hardly  have  brought  out  the  darker  sides  of  human 
nature.  During  the  last  twenty  years,  however,  I have 
had  some  excellent  opportunities  of  watching  a number 
of  native  scholars  under  circumstances  where  it  is  not 
difficult  to  detect  a man’s  true  character — I mean  in  lit- 
erary work  and,  more  particularly,  in  literary  contro- 
versy. I have  watched  them  carrying  on  such  controver- 
sies both  among  themselves  and  with  certain  European 
scholars,  and  I feel  bound  to  say  that,  with  hardly  one 
exception,  they  have  displayed  a far  greater  respect  for 
truth  and  a far  more  manly  and  generous  spirit  than  we 
are  accustomed  to  even  in  Europe  and  America.  They 
have  shown  strength,  but  no  rudeness  ; nay,  I know  that 
nothing  has  surprised  them  so  much  as  the  coarse  invec- 
tive to  which  certain  Sanskrit  scholars  have  conde- 
scended, rudeness  of  speech  being,  according  to  their 
view  of  human  nature,  a safe  sign  not  only  of  bad  breed- 
ing, but  of  want  of  knowledge.  When  they  were 
wrong,  they  have  readily  admitted  their  mistakes  ; when 
they  were  right,  they  have  never  sneered  at  their  Euro- 

erally  are  able  to  read,  write,  and  cijiher  ; but  where  we  have  swept 
away  the  village-system,  as  in  Bengal,  there  the  village-school  has 
also  disappeared.  ” 


82 


LECTURE  II. 


pean  adversaries.  There  lias  been,  with  few  exceptions, 
no  quibbling,  no  special  pleading,  no  untruthfulness  on 
their  part,  and  certainly  none  of  that  low  cunning  of  the 
scholar  who  writes  down  and  publishes  what  he  knows 
perfectly  well  to  be  false,  and  snaps  his  lingers  at  those 
who  still  value  truth  and  self-respect  more  highly  than 
victory  or  applause  at  any  price.  Here,  too,  we  might 
possibly  gain  by  the  import  cargo. 

Let  me  add  that  I have  been  repeatedly  told  by  Eng- 
lish merchants  that  commercial  honor  stands  higher  in 
India  than  in  any  other  country,  and  that  a dishonored 
bill  is  hardly  known  there. 

I have  left  to  the  last  the  witnesses  who  might  other- 
wise have  been  suspected— I mean  the  Hindus  them- 
selves. The  whole  of  their  literature  from  one  end  to 
the  other  is  pervaded  by  expressions  of  love  and  rever- 
ence for  truth.  Their  very  word  for  truth  is  full  of 
meaning.  It  is  sat  or  sat y a,  sat  being  the  participle 
of  the  verb  as,  to  be.  True,  therefore,  was  with  them 
simply  that  which  is.  The  English  sooth  is  connected 
with  sat,  also  the  Greek  ov  for  soov,  and  the  Latin  sens , 
in  pi'cesens. 

We  are  all  very  apt  to  consider  truth  to  be  what  is 
trowed  by  others,  or  believed  in  by  large  majorities. 
That  kind  of  truth  is  easy  to  accept.  But  whoever  has 
once  stood  alone,  surrounded  by  noisy  assertions,  and 
overwhelmed  by  the  clamor  of  those  who  ought  to 
know  better,  or  perhaps  who  did  know  better — call  him 
Galileo  or  Darwin,  Colenso  or  Stanley,  or  any  other 
name — he  knows  what  a real  delight  it  is  to  feel  in  his 
heart  of  hearts,  this  is  true — this  is — this  is  s a t — what- 
ever daily,  weekly,  or  quarterly  papers,  whatever  bish- 
ops, archbishops,  or  popes,  may  say  to  the  contrary. 

Another  name  for  truth  is  the  Sanskrit  r i t a,  which 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


83 


originally  seems  to  have  meant  straight , direct , while 
a n r i t a is  untrue,  false. 

Now  one  of  the  highest  praises  bestowed  upon  the 
gods  in  the  Yeda  is  that  they  are  satya,  true,  truthful, 
trustworthy  ; * and  it  is  well  known  that  both  in  modern 
and  ancient  times,  men  always  ascribe  to  God  or  to  their 
gods  those  cpialities  which  they  value  most  in  them- 
selves. 

Other  words  applied  to  the  gods  as  truthful  beings 
are,  a d r o g h a,  lit.  not  deceiving. f Adroglia- va/j 
means,  he  whose  word  is  never  broken.  Thus  Indra, 
the  Yedic  Jupiter,  is  said  to  have  been  praised  by  the 
fathers  £ “ as  reaching  the  enemy,  overcoming  him, 
standing  on  the  summit,  true  of  speech,  most  powerful 
in  thought.” 

DroghavaA,§  on  the  contrary,  is  used  for  deceitful 
men.  Thus  YasislVAa,  one  of  the  great  Vedic  poets, 
says  : “ If  I had  worshipped  false  gods,  or  if  I believed 
in  the  gods  vainly — but  why  art  thou  angry  with  us,  O 
friitavedas  ? May  liars  go  to  destruction  !” 

Satyam,  as  a neuter,  is  often  used  as  an  abstract, 
and  is  then  rightly  translated  by  truth.  But  it  also 
means  that  which  is,  the  true,  the  real  ; and  there  are 
several  passages  in  the  Rig- Veda  where,  instead  of 
truth , I think  we  ought  simply  to  translate  satyam 
by  the  true,  that  is,  the  real,  to  ovrug  ov  ||  It  sounds, 
no  doubt,  very  well  to  translate  Satyena  uttabhita. 
bhinniA  by  “ the  earth  is  founded  on  truth  and  I be- 
lieve every  translator  has  taken  satya  in  that  sense 

* Rig-Veda  I.  87,  4 ; 145,  5 ; 174,  1 ; V.  23,  2. 

f Rig-Veda  III.  32,  9 ; VI.  5,  1. 

t Rig-Veda  VI.  22,  2.  § Rig-Veda  III.  14,  6. 

| This  is  the  favorite  expression  of  Plato  for  the  Divine,  which 
Cary,  Davis,  and  others  render  “ Real  Being.” — A.  W. 


84 


LECTURE  II. 


here.  Ludwig  translates,  “ Yon  der  Wahrheit  ist  die 
Erde  gestiitzt.”  But  such  an  idea,  if  it  conveys  any  tan- 
gible meaning  at  all,  is  far  too  abstract  for  those  early 
poets  and  philosophers.  They  meant  to  say  “ the  earth, 
such  as  we  see  it,  is  held  up,  that  is,  rests  on  something 
real,  though  we  may  not  see  it,  on  something  which  they 
called  the  Real,*  and  to  which,  in  course  of  time,  they 
gave  many  more  names,  such  as  It  it  a,  the  right, 
B r a liman,”  etc. 

Of  course  where  there  is  that  strong  reverence  for 
truth,  there  must  also  be  the  sense  of  guilt  arising  from 
untruth.  And  thus  we  hear  one  poet  pray  that  the 
waters  may  wash  him  clean,  and  carry  off  all  his  sins 
and  all  untruth  : 

“ Carry  away,  ye  waters, f whatever  evil  there  is  in 
me,  wherever  I may  have  deceived,  or  may  have  cursed, 
and  also  all  untruth  (anritam).  ” J 

Or  again,  in  the  Atharva-Veda  IY.  16  : 

“ May  all  thy  fatal  snares,  which  stand  spread  out 
seven  by  seven  and  threefold,  catch  the  man  who  tells  a 
lie,  may  they  pass  by  him  who  tells  the  truth  !” 

From  the  Brahnnmas,  or  theological  treatises  of  the 
Brahmans,  I shall  cpiote  a few  passages  only  : 

“ Whosoever  § speaks  the  truth,  makes  the  fire  on  his 

* Sometimes  they  trace  even  this  Satya  or  Rita. , the  Real  or 
Right,  to  a still  higher  cause,  and  say  (Rig- Veda  X.  190,  1)  : 

“ The  Right  and  Real  was  born  from  the  Lighted  Heat  ; from 
thence  was  born  Night,  and  thence  the  billowy  sea.  From  the  sea 
was  born  Samvatsara,  the  year,  he  who  ordereth  day  and  night,  the 
Lord  of  all  that  moves  (winks).  The  Maker  (dha.tr i)  shaped  Sun  and 
Moon  in  order  ; he  shaped  the  sky,  the  earth,  the  welkin,  and  the 
highest  heaven." 
f Rig-Veda  I.  23,  22. 

\ Or  it  may  mean,  “ Wherever  I may  have  deceived,  or  sworn 
false.”  § iS'atapatha  Brahmana  II.  2,  3,  19. 


Truthful  character  of  the  Hindus. 


85 


own  altar  blaze  np,  as  if  he  poured  butter  into  the 
lighted  fire.  His  own  light  grows  larger,  and  from  to- 
morrow to  to-morrow  he  becomes  better.  But  who- 
soever speaks  untruth,  he  quenches  the  fire  on  his  altar, 
as  if  he  poured  water  into  the  lighted  fire  ; his  own  light 
grows  smaller  and  smaller,  and  from  to-morrow  to  to- 
morrow he  becomes  more  wicked.  Let  man  therefore 
speak  truth  only.”  * 

And  again  : f “ A man  becomes  impure  by  uttering 
falsehood.” 

And  again  : £ “ As  a man  who  steps  on  the  edge  of  a 
sword  placed  over  a pit  cries  out,  I shall  slip,  I shall  slip 
into  the  pit,  so  let  a man  guard  himself  from  falsehood 
(or  sin).” 

In  later  times  we  see  the  respect  for  truth  carried  to 
such  an  extreme,  that  even  a promise,  unwittingly  made, 
is  considered  to  be  binding. 

In  the  Ka^Aa-Upanishad,  for  instance,  a father  is  in- 
troduced offering  what  is  called  an  ALW-sacrifice,  where 
everything  is  supposed  to  be  given  up.  His  son,  who  is 
standing  by,  taunts  his  father  with  not  having  altogether 
fulfilled  his  vow,  because  he  has  not  sacrificed  his  son. 
Upon  this,  the  father,  though  angry  and  against  his  will, 
is  obliged  to  sacrifice  his  son.  Again,  when  the  son 
arrives  in  the  lower  world,  he  is  allowed  by  the  Judge 
of  the  Dead  to  ask  for  three  favors,  lie  then  asks  to  be 
restored  to  life,  to  be  taught  some  sacrificial  mysteries, 
and,  as  the  third  boon,  he  asks  to  know  what  becomes  of 
man  after  he  is  dead.  Yama,  the  lord  of  the  Departed, 
tries  in  vain  to  be  let  off  from  answering  this  last  ques- 
tion. But  he,  too,  is  bound  by  his  promise,  and  then 


* Cf.  Muir,  “ Metrical  Translations,”  p.  2G8. 

(Sat.  Br.  III.  1,  2,  10.  t Taitt.  Aranyaka  X.  9. 


86 


LECTURE  II. 


follows  a discourse  on  life  after  death,  or  immortal  life, 
which  forms  one  of  the  most  beautiful  chapters  in  the 
ancient  literature  of  India. 

The  whole  plot  of  one  of  the  great  epic  poems,  the 
Ramayana,  rests  on  a rash  promise  given  by  Dasaratha, 
king  of  Ayodhya,  to  his  second  wife,  Kaikeyi,  that  he 
would  grant  her  two  boons.  In  order  to  secure  the  suc- 
cession to  her  own  son,  she  asks  that  Rama,  the  eldest 
son  by  the  king’s  other  wife,  should  be  banished  for 
fourteen  years.  Much  as  the  king  repents  his  promise, 
Rama,  his  eldest  son,  would  on  no  account  let  his  father 
break  his  word,  and  he  leaves  his  kingdom  to  wander  in 
the  forest  with  his  wife  Sita  and  his  brother  Lakshmana. 
After  the  father’s  death,  the  son  of  the  second  wife  de- 
clines the  throne,  and  comes  to  Rama  to  persuade  him 
to  accept  the  kingdom  of  his  father.  But  all  in  vain. 
Rama  will  keep  his  exile  for  fourteen  years,  and  never 
disown  his  father’s  promise.  Here  follows  a curious 
dialogue  between  a Brahman  A'abali  and  Prince  Rama, 
of  which  I shall  give  some  extracts  : * 

“ The  Brahman,  who  is  a priest  and  courtier,  says, 
‘ Well,  descendant  of  Raghu,  do  not  thou,  so  noble  in 
sentiments,  and  austere  in  character,  entertain,  like  a 
common  man,  this  useless  thought.  What  man  is  a 
kinsman  of  any  other  ? What  relationship  has  any  one 
with  another  ? A man  is  born  alone  and  dies  alone. 
Hence  he  who  is  attached  to  any  one  as  his  father  or 
his  mother,  is  to  be  regarded  as  if  he  were  insane,  for  no 
one  belongs  to  another.  Thou  oughtest  not  to  aban- 
don thy  father’s  kingdom  and  stay  here  in  a sad  and 
miserable  abode,  attended  with  many  trials.  Let  thy- 
self be  inaugurated  king  in  the  wealthy  Ayodhya. 


* Muir,  “Metrical  Translations,”  p.  218. 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


S7 


Dasaratha,  thy  father  is  nothing  to  thee,  or  thou  to  him  ; 
the  king  is  one,  and  thou  another,  do  therefore  what  is 
said.  . . Then  offer  oblations  to  the  departed  spirits  (of 
thy  forefathers)  on  prescribed  days  ; but  see  what  a 
waste  of  food  ! For  what  can  a dead  man  eat  ? If 
what  is  eaten  by  one  here  enters  into  the  body  of  another 
(viz.,  of  the  departed),  let  £raddhas  be  offered  to  those 
who  are  travelling ; they  need  not  then  get  food  to  eat 
on  their  journey.  These  books  (the  Vedas),  (which 
enjoin  men  to)  sacrifice,  give,  consecrate  themselves, 
practise  austerities,  and  forsake  the  world,  are  composed 
by  clever  men  to  induce  others  to  bestow  gifts.  Au- 
thoritative words  do  not  fall  from  heaven.  Let  me, 
and  others  like  yourselves,  embrace  whatever  assertion  is 
supported  by  reason.  Adhere  to  what  is  apparent  to  the 
senses,  and  reject  what  is  invisible.  . . . This  world  is 
the  next  world  • do  thou  therefore  enjoy  pleasure,  for 
every  virtuous  man  does  not  gain  it.  Virtuous  men  are 
greatly  distressed,  while  the  unrighteous  are  seen  to  be 
happy.’  ” 

These  positivist  sentiments  sound  strange,  particularly 
from  the  mouth  of  a Brahman.  But  the  poet  evidently 
wishes  to  represent  a Brahman  living  at  court,  who  has 
an  argument  ready  for  anything  and  everything  that  is 
likely  to  please  his  king. 

But  what  does  Rama  answer?  “The  words,”  he 
says,  “ which  you  have  addressed  to  me,  though  tlfey 
recommend  what  seems  to  be  right  and  salutary,  advise, 
in  fact,  the  contrary.  The  sinful  transgressor,  who  lives 
according  to  the  rules  of  heretical  systems,  obtains  no 
esteem  from  good  men.  It  is  good  conduct  that  marks 
a man  to  be  noble  or  ignoble,  heroic  or  a pretender  to 
manliness,  pure  or  impure.  Truth  and  mercy  are  im- 
memorial characteristics  of  a kins’s  conduct.  Hence 


LECTURE  II. 


8S 


royal  rule  is  in  its  essence  truth.  On  truth  the  word 
is  based.  Both  sages  and  gods  have  esteemed  truth. 
The  man  who  speaks  truth  in  this  world  attains  the 
highest  imperishable  state.  Men  shrink  with  fear  and 
horror  from  a liar  as  from  a serpent.  In  this  world  the 
chief  element  in  virtue  is  truth  ; it  is  called  the  basis  of 
everything.  Truth  is  lord  in  the  world  ; virtue  always 
rests  on  truth.  All  things  are  founded  on  truth  ; noth- 
ing is  higher  than  it.  Why,  then,  should  I not  be  true 
to  mv  promise,  and  faithfully  observe  the  truthful  in- 
junction given  by  my  father  ? Neither  through  covet- 
ousness, nor  delusion,  nor  ignorance,  will  I,  overpowered 
by  darkness,  break  through  the  barrier  of  truth,  but 
remain  true  to  my  promise  to  my  father.  IIow  shall  1, 
having  promised  to  him  that  I would  thus  reside  in  the 
forests,  transgress  his  injunction,  and  do  what  Bharata 
recommends  ?” 

The  other  epic  poem  too,  the  Mahabharata,  is  full  of 
episodes  showing  a profound  regard  for  truth  and  an  al- 
most slavish  submission  to  a pledge  once  given.  The 
death  of  Bhishma,  one  of  the  most  important  events  in 
the  story  of  the  Mahabharata,  is  due  to  his  vow  never  to 
hurt  a woman.  He  is  thus  killed  by  Aikhandin,  whom 
he  takes  to  be  a woman.* 

Were  I to  quote  from  all  the  law-books,  and  from  still 
later  works,  everywhere  you  would  hear  the  same  key- 
note of  truthfulness  vibrating  through  them  all. 

We  must  not,  however,  suppress  the  fact  that,  under 
certain  circumstances,  a lie  was  allowed,  or,  at  all  events, 
excused  by  Indian  lawgivers.  Thus  Gautama  says  : j* 
“ An  untruth  spoken  by  people  under  the  influence  of 

* Holtzmanu,  “ Das  alte  indisclie  Epos,”  p.  21,  note  83. 

f V.  24. 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


80 


anger,  excessive  joy,  fear,  pain,  or  grief,  by  infants,  by 
very  old  men,  by  persons  laboring  under  a delusion, 
being  under  the  influence  of  drink,  or  by  madmen,  does 
not  cause  the  speaker  to  fall,  or,  as  we  should  say,  is  a 
venial,  not  a mortal  sin.”  * 

This  is  a large  admission,  yet  even  in  that  open  admis- 
sion there  is  a certain  amount  of  honesty.  Again  and 
again  in  the  Mahabharata  is  this  excuse  pleaded,  f Nay, 
there  is  in  the  Mahabharata  % the  well-known  story  of 
Kausika,  called  Satyavadin,  the  Truth-speaker,  who 
goes  to  hell  for  having  spoken  the  truth.  He  once  saw 
men  flying  into  the  forest  before  robbers  (dasyu).  The 
robbers  came  up  soon  after  them,  and  asked  Kausika, 
which  way  the  fugitives  had  taken.  lie  told  them  the 
truth,  and  the  men  were  caught  by  the  robbers  and 

* This  permission  to  prevaricate  was  still  further  extended.  The 
following  five  untruths  are  enumerated  by  various  writers  as  not 
constituting  mortal  sins — namely,  at  the  time  of  marriage,  during 
dalliance,  when  life  is  in  danger,  when  the  loss  of  property  is 
threatened,  and  for  the  sake  of  a Brahmana.  Again,  another 
writer  cites  the  declaration  that  an  untruth  is  venial  if  it  is 
spoken  at  the  time  of  marriage,  during  dalliance,  in  jest,  or  while 
suffering  great  pain.  It  is  evident  that  Venus  laughed  at  lovers’ 
oaths  in  India  as  well  as  elsewhere  ; and  that  false  testimony  ex- 
tracted by  torture  was  excused.  Mann  declared  that  in  some  cases 
the  giver  of  false  evidence  from  a pious  motive  would  not  lose  his 
seat  in  heaven  ; indeed,  that  whenever  the  death  of  a man  of  any  of 
the  four  castes  would  be  occasioned  by  true  evidence,  falsehood  was 
even  better  than  truth.  He  gives  as  the  primeval  rule,  to  say  what  is 
(rue  and  what  is  pleasant,  but  not  what  is  true  and  unpleasant,  or 
what  is  pleasant  and  not  true.  'The  Vishnn-purana  gives  like  counsel, 
adding  the  following  aphorism:  “A  considerate  man  will  always 
cultivate,  in  act,  thonght,  and  speech,  that  which  is  good  for  living 
beings,  both  in  this  world  and  in  the  next.”  About  the  same  license 
appears  to  be  used  in  this  country  and  winked  at. — A.  W. 

f I.  3412  ; III.  13844  ; VII.  8712  ; VIII.  3436,  3464. 

t Mahabharata  VIII.  3448. 


00 


LECTURE  II. 


killed.  Rut  Kausika,  we  are  told,  went  to  hell  for 
having  spoken  the  truth. 

The  Hindus  may  seem  to  have  been  a priest-ridden 
race,  and  their  devotion  to  sacrifice  and  ceremonial  is 
well  known.  Yet  this  is  what  the  poet  of  the  Maha- 
bharata  dares  to  say  : 

“ Let  a thousand  sacrifices  (of  a horse)  and  truth  be 
weighed  in  the  balance — truth  will  exceed  the  thousand 
sacrifices.”* 

These  are  words  addressed  by  Aakuntala,  the  deserted 
wife,  to  King  Dushyanta,  when  he  declined  to  recog- 
nize her  and  his  son.  And  when  he  refuses  to  listen  to 
her  appeal,  what  does  she  appeal  to  as  the  highest  au- 
thority ? — The  voice  of  conscience. 

“ If  you  think  I am  alone,”  she  says  to  the  king, 
“ you  do  not  know  that  wise  man  within  your  heart, 
lie  knows  of  your  evil  deed — in  his  sight  you  commit 
sin.  A man  who  has  committed  sin  may  think  that  no 
one  knows  it.  The  gods  know  it  and  the  old  man 
within.”  f 

This  must  suffice.  I say  once  more  that  I do  not  wish 
to  represent  the  people  of  India  as  two  hundred  and 
fifty-three  millions  of  angels,  but  I do  wish  it  to  be 
understood  and  to  be  accepted  as  a fact,  that  the  damag- 
ing charge  of  untruthfulness  brought  against  that  people 
is  utterly  unfounded  with  regard  to  ancient  times.  It  is 
not  only  not  true,  but  the  very  opposite  of  the  truth. 
As  to  modern  times,  and  I date  them  from  about  1000 
after  Christ,  I can  only  say  that,  after  reading  the  ac- 
counts of  the  terrors  and  horrors  of  Mohammedan  rule, 
my  wonder  is  that  so  much  of  native  virtue  and  truth- 


* Muir,  1.  c.  p.  268  ; Mahabhaiata  I.  3095. 
f Mahabharata  I.  3015-16. 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


91 


fulness  should  have  survived.  You  might  as  well  ex- 
pect a mouse  to  speak  the  truth  before  a cat,  as  a 
Hindu  before  a Mohammedan  judge.*  If  you  frighten  a 
child,  that  child  will  tell  a lie  ; if  you  terrorize  millions, 
you  must  not  be  surprised  if  they  try  to  escape  from 
your  fangs.  Truthfulness  is  a luxury,  perhaps  the 
greatest,  and  let  me  assure  you,  the  most  expensive 
luxury  in  our  life — and  happy  the  man  who  has  been 
able  to  enjoy  it  from  his  very  childhood.  It  may  be  easy 
enough  in  our  days  and  in  a free  country,  like  England, 
never  to  tell  a lie — but  the  older  we  grow,  the  harder 
we  find  it  to  be  always  true,  to  speak  the  truth,  the 
whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth.  The  Hindus 
too  had  made  that  discovery.  They  too  knew  howr  hard, 
nay  how  impossible  it  is,  always  to  speak  the  truth,  the 
wdiole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth.  There  is  a 
short  story  in  the  datapath  a Brahmawa,  to  my  mind  full 
of  deep  meaning,  and  pervaded  by  the  real  sense  of 
truth,  the  real  sense  of  tiie  difficulty  of  truth.  His  kins- 
man said  to  Anma  Aupavesi,  “ Thou  art  advanced  in 
years,  establish  thou  the  sacrificial  fires.”  He  replied  : 
“ Thereby  you  tell  me  henceforth  to  keep  silence.  For 
he  who  has  established  the  fires  must  not  speak  an  un- 
truth, and  only  by  not  speaking  at  all,  one  speaks  no 
untruth.  To  that  extent  the  service  of  the  sacrificial 
fires  consists  in  truth.”  f 

I doubt  whether  in  any  other  of  the  ancient  literatures 
of  the  world  you  will  find  traces  of  that  extreme  sensi- 
tiveness of  conscience  which  despairs  of  our  ever  speak- 
ing the  truth,  and  which  declares  silence  gold,  and 

* This  explains  satisfactorily  how  the  Hindoos  became  liars,  and 
of  course  admits  that  they  did  become  so.-  Am.  Pubs. 

f Satapatha  Brahmana,  translated  by  Eggeling,  “ Sacred  Books  of 
the  East,”  vol.  xii.,  p.  313,  § 20. 


92 


LECTURE  II. 


speech  silver,  though  in  a much  higher  sense  than  our 
proverb. 

What  I should  wish  to  impress  on  those  who  will  soon 
find  themselves  the  rulers  of  millions  of  human  beings  in 
India,  is  the  duty  to  shake  off  national  prejudices,  which 
are  apt  to  degenerate  into  a kind  of  madness.  I have 
known  people  with  a brown  skin  whom  I could  look  up 
to  as  my  betters.  Look  for  them  in  India,  and  you  will 
find  them,  and  if  you  meet  with  disappointments,  as  no 
doubt  you  will,  think  of  the  people  with  white  skins 
whom  you  have  trusted,  and  whom  you  can  trust  no 
more.  We  are  all  apt  to  be  Pharisees  in  international 
judgments.  I read  only  a few  days  ago  in  a pamphlet 
written  by  an  enlightened  politician,  the  following  words  : 

“ Experience  only  can  teach  that  nothing  is  so  truly 
astonishing  to  a morally  depraved  people  as  the  phenom- 
enon of  a race  of  men  in  whose  word  perfect  confi- 
dence may  be  placed  *.  . . . The  natives  are  conscious 
of  their  inferiority  in  nothing  so  much  as  in  this.  They 
require  to  be  taught  rectitude  of  conduct  much  more 
than  literature  and  science.” 

If  you  approach  the  Hindus  with  such  feelings,  you 
will  teach  them  neither  rectitude,  nor  science,  nor  liter- 
ature. Isay,  they  might  appeal  to  their  own  literature, 
even  to  their  law-books,  to  teach  us  at  least  one  lesson  of 
truthfulness,  truthfulness  to  ourselves,  or,  in  other  words, 
humility. 

What  does  Yay/Iavalkya  say  ? f 

“ It  is  not  our  hermitage,”  he  says — our  religion  we 
might  say — “ still  less  the  color  of  our  skin,  that  pro- 
duces virtue  ; virtue  must  be  practiced.  Therefore  let 

* Sir  Charles  Trevelyan,  “ Christianity  and  Hinduism,”  p.  81. 

f IV.  65. 


TRUTHFUL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HINDUS. 


93 


no  one  do  to  others  what  lie  would  not  have  done  to 
himself.” 

And  the  laws  of  the  Manavas,  which  were  so  much 
abused  by  Mill,  what  do  they  teach  ? * 

“ Evil-doers  think  indeed  that  no  one  sees  them  ; but 
the  gods  see  them,  and  the  old  man  within.” 

“ Self  is  the  witness  of  Self,  Self  is  the  refuge  of  Self. 
Do  not  despise  thy  own  Self,  the  highest  witness  of 
men.”  f 

“ If,  friend,  thou  thinkest  thou  art  self-alone,  re- 
member there  is  the  silent  thinker  (the  Highest  Self) 
always  within  thy  heart,  and  he  sees  what  is  good  and 
what  is  evil.”  \ 

“ O friend,  whatever  good  thou  mayest  have  done 
from  thy  very  birth,  all  will  go  to  the  dogs,  if  thou 
speak  an  untruth.” 

Or  in  VasislpAa,  XXX.  1 : 

“ Practice  righteousness,  not  unrighteousness  ; speak 
truth,  not  untruth  ; look  far,  not  near  ; look  up  toward 
the  highest,  not  toward  anything  low.” 

No  doubt  there  is  moral  depravity  in  India,  and 
where  is  there  no  moral  depravity  in  this  world  ? But 
to  appeal  to  international  statistics  would  be,  I believe,  a 
dangerous  game.  Nor  must  we  forget  that  our  stand- 
ards of  morality  differ,  and,  on  some  points,  differ  con- 
siderably from  those  recognized  in  India  ; and  we  must 
not  wonder  if  sons  do  not  at  once  condemn  as  criminal 
what  their  fathers  and  grandfathers  considered  right. 
Let  us  hold  by  all  means  to  our  sense  of  what  is  right 
and  what  is  wrong  ; but  in  judging  others,  whether  in 
public  or  in  private  life,  whether  as  historians  or  politi- 
cians, let  us  not  forget  that  a kindly  spirit  will  never  do 


* yin.  85. 


t \ in.  90. 


t YIII.  92. 


94 


LECTURE  II. 


any  harm.  Certainly  I can  imagine  nothing  more  mis- 
chievous, more  dangerous,  more  fatal  to  the  permanence 
of  English  rule  in  India,  than  for  the  young  civil  ser- 
vants to  go  to  that  country  with  the  idea  that  it  is  a sink 
of  moral  depravity,  an  ants’  nest  of  lies  ; for  no  one  is  so 
sure  to  go  wrong,  whether  in  public  or  in  private  life,  as 
he  who  says  in  his  haste  : “ All  men  are  bars.” 


LECTURE  III. 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE. 

My  first  lecture  was  intended  to  remove  the  prejudice 
that  India  is  and  always  must  be  a strange  country  to 
us,  and  that  those  who  have  to  live  there  will  find  them- 
selves stranded,  and  far  away  from  that  living  stream  of 
thoughts  and  interests  which  carries  us  along  in  England 
and  in  other  countries  of  Europe. 

My  second  lecture  was  directed  against  another  prej- 
udice, namely,  that  the  people  of  India  with  whom  the 
young  civil  servants  will  have  to  pass  the  best  years  of 
their  life  are  a race  so  depraved  morally,  and  more  par- 
ticularly so  devoid  of  any  regard  for  truth,  that  they 
must  always  remain  strangers  to  us,  and  that  any  real 
fellowship  or  friendship  with  them  is  quite  out  of  the 
question. 

To-day  I shall  have  to  grapple  with  a third  prejudice, 
namely,  that  the  literature  of  India,  and  more  especially 
the  classical  Sanskrit  literature,  whatever  may  be  its  in- 
terest to  the  scholar  and  the  antiquarian,  has  little  to 
teach  us  which  we  cannot  learn  better  from  other 
sources,  and  that  at  all  events  it  is  of  little  practical  use 
to  young  civilians.  If  only  they  learn  to  express  them- 
selves in  Hindustani  or  Tamil,  that  is  considered  quite 
enough  ; nay,  as  they  have  to  deal  with  men  and  with 
the  ordinary  affairs  of  life,  and  as,  before  everything 
else,  they  are  to  be  men  of  the  world  and  men  of  busi- 
ness, it  is  even  supposed  to  be  dangerous,  if  they  allowed 


96 


LECTURE  III. 


themselves  to  become  absorbed  in  questions  of  abstruse 
scholarship  or  in  researches  on  ancient  religion,  mythol- 
ogy, and  philosophy. 

I take  the  very  opposite  opinion,  and  I should  advise 
every  young  man  who  wishes  to  enjoy  his  life  in  India, 
and  to  spend  his  years  there  with  profit  to  himself  and 
to  others,  to  learn  Sanskrit,  and  to  learn  it  well. 

I know  it  will  be  said,  MTiat  can  be  the  use  of  San- 
skrit at  the  present  day  ? Is  not  Sanskrit  a dead  lan- 
guage ? And  are  not  the  Hindus  themselves  ashamed 
of  their  ancient  literature  ? Do  they  not  learn  English, 
and  do  they  not  prefer  Locke,  and  Ilume,  and  Mill  to 
their  ancient  poets  and  philosophers  ? 

No  doubt  Sanskrit,  in  one  sense,  is  a dead  language. 
It  was,  I believe,  a dead  language  more  than  two  thou- 
sand years  ago.  Buddha,  about  500  b.c.  , commanded  his 
disciples  to  preach  in  the  dialects  of  the  people  ; and 
King  A.s-oka,  in  the  third  century  b.c.,  when  he  put  up 
his  Edicts,  which  were  intended  to  be  read,  or  at  least 
to  be  understood  by  the  people,  had  them  engraved  on 
rocks  and  pillars  in  the  various  local  dialects  from  Cabul  * 
in  the  north  to  Ballabhi  in  the  south,  from  the  sources 
of  the  Granges  and  the  Jumnah  to  Allahabad  and  Patna, 
nay  even  down  to  Orissa.  These  various  dialects  are  as 
different  from  Sanskrit  as  Italian  is  from  Latin,  and  we 
have  therefore  good  reason  to  suppose  that,  in  the  third 
century  b.c.,  if  not  earlier,  Sanskrit  had  ceased  to  be  the 
spoken  language  of  the  people  at  large. 

There  is  an  interesting  passage  in  the  /tullavagga, 
where  we  are  told  that,  even  during  Buddha’s  lifetime, 
some  of  his  pupils,  who  were  Brahmans  by  birth,  com- 

* See  Cunningham,  “ Corpus  Inscriptionum  Indicaram,”  vol.  i., 
1877. 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE. 


97 


plained  that  people  spoiled  the  words  of  Buddha  by 
every  one  repeating  them  in  his  own  dialect  (nirutti). 
They  proposed  to  translate  his  words  into  Sanskrit  ; but 
he  declined,  and  commanded  that  each  man  should  learn 
his  doctrine  in  his  own  language.* 

And  there  is  another  passage,  quoted  by  Hardy  in  his 
Manual  of  Buddhism,  p.  186,  where  we  read  that  at  the 
time  of  Buddha’s  first  preaching  each  of  the  countless 
listeners  thought  that  the  sage  was  looking  toward  him, 
and  was  speaking  to  him  in  his  own  tongue,  though  the 
language  used  was  Magadhi.f 

Sanskrit,  therefore,  as  a language  spoken  by  the 
people  at  large,  had  ceased  to  exist  in  the  third  century 

B.C. 

Yet  such  is  the  marvellous  continuity  between  the  past 
and  the  present  in  India,  that  in  spite  of  repeated  social 
convulsions,  religious  reforms,  and  foreign  invasions, 
Sanskrit  may  be  said  to  be  still  the  only  language  that  is 
spoken  over  the  whole  extent  of  that  vast  country. 

Though  the  Buddhist  sovereigns  published  their 
edicts  in  the  vernaculars,  public  inscriptions  and  private 
official  documents  continued  to  be  composed  in  Sanskrit 
during  the  last  two  thousand  years.  And  though  the 
language  of  the  sacred  writings  of  Buddhists  and  frainas 
was  borrowed  from  the  vulgar  dialects,  the  literature  of 
India  never  ceased  to  be  written  in  Paninean  Sanskrit, 
while  the  few  exceptions,  as,  for  instance,  the  use  of 
Prakrit  by  women  and  inferior  characters  in  the  plays 
of  Kalidasa  and  others,  are  themselves  not  without  an 
important  historical  significance. 

* JTullavagga  Y.  33,  1.  The  expression  used  is  Kh andaso  arope- 
xna’ti. 

f See  Rhys  Davids,  Buddhist  Suttas,  “ Sacred  Books  of  the  East,” 
vol.  xi.,  p.  142. 


98 


LECTURE  III. 


Even  at  the  present  moment,  after  a century  of  Eng- 
lish rule  and  English  teaching,  I believe  that  Sanskrit  is 
more  widely  understood  in  India  than  Latin  was  in 
Europe  at  the  time  of  Dante. 

Whenever  I receive  a letter  from  a learned  man  in 
India,  it  is  written  in  Sanskrit.  Whenever  there  is  a 
controversy  on  cpiestions  of  law  and  religion,  the  pam- 
phlets published  in  India  are  written  in  Sanskrit.  There 
are  journals  written  in  Sanskrit  which  must  entirely 
depend  for  their  support  on  readers  who  prefer  that 
classical  language  to  the  vulgar  dialects.  There  is  The 
Pandit,  published  at  Benares,  containing  not  only  edi- 
tions of  ancient  texts,  but  treatises  on  modern  subjects, 
reviews  of  books  published  in  England,  and  controversial 
articles,  all  in  Sanskrit. 

Another  paper  of  the  same  kind  is  the  Pratna-Kam- 
ra-nandini,  “ the  Delight  of  lovers  of  old  things,”  pub- 
lished likewise  at  Benares,  and  full  of  valuable  materials. 

There  is  also  the  Vidyodaya,  “ the  Rise  of  Knowl- 
edge,” a Sanskrit  journal  published  at  Calcutta,  which 
sometimes  contains  important  articles.  There  are  prob- 
ably others,  which  I do  not  know. 

There  is  a monthly  serial  published  at  Bombay,  by 
M.  Moreshwar  Kunte,  called  the  Shad-dai'shana-Chin- 
tanika , or  “ Studies  in  Indian  Philosophy,”  giving  the 
text  of  the  ancient  systems  of  philosophy,  with  commen- 
taries and  treatises,  written  in  Sanskrit,  though  in  this 
case  accompanied  by  a Marathi  and  an  English  transla- 
tion. 

Of  the  Rig-Yeda,  the  most  ancient  of  Sanskrit  books, 
two  editions  are  now  coming  out  in  monthly  numbers, 
the  one  published  at  Bombay,  by  what  may  be  called  the 
liberal  party,  the  other  at  Prayaga  (Allahabad)  by  Daya- 
nanda  Sarasvati,  the  representative  of  Indian  orthodoxy. 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  99 


The  former  gives  a paraphrase  in  Sanskrit,  and  a 
Marathi  and  an  English  translation  ; the  latter  a full  ex- 
planation in  Sanskrit,  followed  by  a vernacular  commen- 
tary. These  books  are  published  by  subscription,  and 
the  list  of  subscribers  among  the  natives  of  India  is  very 
considerable. 

There  are  other  journals,  which  are  chiefly  written  in 
the  spoken  dialects,  such  as  Bengali,  Marathi,  or  Hindi  ; 
but  they  contain  occasional  articles  in  Sanskrit,  as,  for 
instance,  the  II ar i s&an dra&an d ri ka,  published  at  Benares, 
the  Tattvabodhini,  published  at  Calcutta,  and  several 
more. 

It  was  only  the  other  day  that  I saw  in  the  Liberal. , 
the  journal  of  Keshub  Chunder  Sen’s  party,*  an  account, 
of  a meeting  between  Brahmavrata  Samadhyayi,  a Vedic 
scholar  of  Nuddea,  and  Kashinath  Trimbak  Telang,  a 
M.A.  of  the  University  of  Bombay.  The  one  caine 
from  the  east,  the  other  from  the  west,  yet  both  could 
converse  fluently  in  Sanskrit. f 

Still  more  extraordinary  is  the  number  of  Sanskrit 
texts,  issuing  from  native  presses,  for  which  there  seems 
to  be  a large  demand,  for  if  we  write  for  copies  to  be 
sent  to  England,  we  often  find  that,  after  a year  or  two, 
all  the  copies  have  been  bought  up  in  India  itself. 
That  would  not  be  the  case  with  Anglo-Saxon  texts  in 
England,  or  with  Latin  texts  in  Italy  ! 

But  more  than  this,  wTe  are  told  that  the  ancient  epic 
poems  of  the  Mahabharata  and  Kamayawa  are  still 
recited  in  the  temples  for  the  benefit  of  visitors,  and  that 
in  the  villages  large  crowds  assemble  around  the 
Kathaka,  the  reader  of  these  ancient  Sanskrit  poems, 

* The  Brahmo-Samaj,  a theistic  school. — A.  W. 
f The  Liberal,  March  12,  1882. 


100 


LECTURE  III. 


often  interrupting  in's  recitations  with  tears  and  sighs, 
when  the  hero  of  the  poem  is  sent  into  banishment, 
while  when  he  returns  to  his  kingdom,  the  houses  of  the 
village  are  adorned  with  lamps  and  garlands.  Such  a 
recitation  of  the  whole  of  the  Mahabharata  is  said  to 
occupy  ninety  days,  or  sometimes  half  a year.*  The 
people  at  large  require,  no  doubt,  that  the  Brahman 
narrator  (Kathaka)  should  interpret  the  old  poem,  but 
there  must  be  some  few  people  present  who  understand, 
or  imagine  they  understand,  the  old  poetry  of  Vyasa 
and  Valmiki. 

There  are  thousands  of  Brahmans  f even  now,  when  so 
little  inducement  exists  for  Vedic  studies,  who  know  the 
Avhole  of  the  Big- Veda  by  heart  and  can  repeat  it  ; and 
what  applies  to  the  Big- Veda  applies  to  many  other 
books. 

But  even  if  Sanskrit  were  more  of  a dead  language 
than  it  really  is,  all  the  living  languages  of  India,  both 
Aryan  and  Dravidian,  draw  their  very  life  and  soul  from 
Sanskrit.:):  On  this  point,  and  on  the  great  help  that 

even  a limited  knowledge  of  Sanskrit  would  render  in 

* See  R.  G.  Bhandarkar,  Consideration  of  the  date  of  the  Maha- 
bharata, Journal  of  the  It.  A.  S.  of  Bombay,  1872  ; Talboys  Wheeler, 
“ History  of  India,”  ii.  365,  572  ; Holtzmann,  “ Tiber  das  alte  in- 
dische  Epos,”  1881,  p.  1 ; Phear,  “ The  Aryan  Village  in  India  and 
Ceylon,’  ’ p.  19.  That  the  Mahabharata  was  publicly  read  in  the 
seventh  century  a.d.,  we  learn  from  Bana  ; see  Journal  of  the  Royal 
Asiatic  Society,  Bombay,  vol.  x.,  p.  87,  note. — A.  W. 

f “ Hibbert  Lectures,”  p.  157. 

t “ Every  person  acquainted  with  the  spoken  speech  of  India 
knows  perfectly  well  that  its  elevation  to  the  dignity  and  usefulness 
of  written  speech  has  depended,  and  must  still  depend,  upon  its 
borrowing  largely  from  its  parent  or  kindred  source  ; that  no  man 
who  is  ignorant  of  Arabic  or  Sanskrit  can  write  Hindustani  or 
Bengali  with  elegance,  or  purity,  or  precision,  and  that  the  con- 
demnation of  the  classical  languages  to  oblivion  would  consign  the 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  101 


the  acquisition  of  the  vernaculars,  I,  and  others  better 
qualified  than  1 am,  have  spoken  so  often,  though  with- 
out any  practical  effect,  that  I need  not  speak  again. 
Any  candidate  who  knows  but  the  elements  of  Sanskrit 
grammar  will  well  understand  what  I mean,  whether  his 
special  vernacular  may  be  Bengali,  Hindustani,  or  even 
Tamil.  To  a classical  scholar  I can  only  say  that 
between  a civil  servant  who  knows  Sanskrit  and  Hin- 
dustani, and  another  who  knows  Hindustani  only, 
there  is  about  the  same  difference  in  their  power  of 
forming  an  intelligent  appreciation  of  India  and  its  in- 
habitants, as  there  is  between  a traveller  who  visits  Italy 
with  a knowledge  of  Latin,  and  a party  personally  con- 
ducted to  Rome  by  Messrs.  Cook  & Co. 

Let  us  examine,  however,  the  objection  that  Sanskrit 
literature  is  a dead  or  an  artificial  literature,  a little  more 
carefully,  in  order  to  see  whether  there  is  not  some  kind 
of  truth  in  it.  Some  people  hold  that  the  literary  works 
which  we  possess  in  Sanskrit  never  had  any  real  life  at 
all,  that  they  were  altogether  scholastic  productions,  and 
that  therefore  they  can  teach  us  nothing  of  what  we 
really  care  for,  namely,  the  historical  growth  of  the 
Hindu  mind.  Others  maintain  that  at  the  present 
moment,  at  all  events,  and  after  a century  of  English 
rule,  Sanskrit  literature  has  ceased  to  lie  a motive  power 
in  India,  and  that  it  can  teach  us  nothing  of  what  is 
passing  now  through  the  Hindu  mind  and  influencing  it 
for  good  or  for  evil. 

Let  us  look  at  the  facts.  Sanskrit  literature  is  a wide 
and  a vague  term.  If  the  Yedas,  such  as  we  now  have 
them,  were  composed  about  1500  b.c.,  and  if  it  is  a fact 
that  considerable  works  continue  to  be  written  in  San- 

dialects  to  utter  helplessness  and  irretrievable  barbarism.”  H.  H, 
Wilson,  Asiatic,  Journal,  Jan.,  1836  ; vol  xix.,  p.  15. 


102 


LECTURE  II I. 


skrit  even  now,  we  liave  before  us  a stream  of  literary 
activity  extending  over  three  thousand  four  hundred 
years.  With  the  exception  of  China  there  is  nothing 
like  this  in  the  whole  world. 

It  is  difficult  to  give  an  idea  of  the  enormous  extent 
and  variety  of  that  literature.  We  are  only  gradually 
becoming  acquainted  with  the  untold  treasures  which  still 
exist  in  manuscripts,  and  with  the  titles  of  that  still 
larger  number  of  works  which  must  have  existed 
formerly,  some  of  them  being  still  quoted  by  writers  of 
the  last  three  or  four  centuries.* 

The  Indian  Government  has  of  late  years  ordered  a 
kind  of  bibliographical  survey  of  India  to  be  made,  and 
has  sent  some  learned  Sanskrit  scholars,  both  European 
and  native,  to  places  where  collections  of  Sanskrit  mss. 
are  known  to  exist,  in  order  to  examine  and  catalogue 
them.  Some  of  these  catalogues  have  been  published, 
and  we  learn  from  them  that  the  number  of  separate 
works  in  Sanskrit,  of  which  mss.  are  still  in  existence, 
amounts  to  about  10,000.f  This  is  more,  I believe, 
than  the  whole  classical  literature  of  Greece  and  Italy 
put  together.  Much  of  it,  no  doubt,  will  be  called  mere 
rubbish  ; but  then  you  know  that  even  in  our  days  the 
writings  of  a very  eminent  philosopher  have  been  called 
>£  mere  rubbish.”  What  1 wish  you  to  see  is  this,  that 
there  runs  through  the  whole  history  of  India,  through 
its  three  or  four  thousand  years,  a high  road,  or,  it  is 
perhaps  more  accurate  to  say,  a high  mountain-path  of 
literature.  It  may  be  remote  from  the  turmoil  of  the 
plain,  hardly  visible  perhaps  to  the  millions  of  human 

* It  ■would  be  a most  useful  work  for  any  young  scholar  to  draw 
up  a list  of  Sanskrit  books  which  are  quoted  by  later  writers,  but 
have  not  yet  been  met  with  in  Indian  libraries. 

f “ Hibbert  Lectures,''  p.  133. 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  103 

beings  in  their  daily  struggle  of  life.  It  may  have  been 
trodden  by  a few  solitary  wanderers  only.  But  to  the 
historian  of  the  human  race,  to  the  student  of  the  de- 
velopment of  the  human  mind,  those  few  solitary  wan- 
derers are  after  all  the  true  representatives  of  India  from 
ag;e  to  age.  Do  not  let  us  be  deceived.  The  true  his- 
tory  of  the  world  must  always  be  the  history  of  the  few  ; 
and  as  we  measure  the  Himalaya  by  the  height  of  Mount 
Everest,  we  must  take  the  true  measure  of  India  from 
the  poets  of  the  Veda,  the  sages  of  the  Upanishads,  the 
founders  of  the  Vedanta  and  Sankhya  philosophies,  and 
the  authors  of  the  oldest  law-books,  and  not  from  the 
millions  who  are  born  and  die  in  their  villages,  and  who 
have  never  for  one  moment  been  roused  out  of  their 
drowsy  dream  of  life. 

To  large  multitudes  in  India,  no  doubt,  Sanskrit  lit- 
erature was  not  merely  a dead  literature,  it  was  simply 
non-existent  ; but  the  same  might  be  said  of  almost 
every  literature,  and  more  particularly  of  the  literatures 
of  the  ancient  world. 

Still,  even  beyond  this,  I am  cpiite  prepared  to  ac- 
knowledge to  a certain  extent  the  truth  of  the  statement, 
that  a great  portion  of  Sanskrit  literature  has  never  been 
living  and  national,  in  the  same  sense  in  which  the  Greek 
and  Roman  literatures  reflected  at  times  the  life  of  a 
whole  nation  ; and  it  is  quite  true  besides,  that  the  San- 
skrit books  which  are  best  known  to  the  public  at  large, 
belong  to  what  might  correctly  be  called  the  Renaissance 
period  of  Indian  literature,  when  those  who  wrote  San- 
skrit had  themselves  to  learn  the  language,  as  we  learn 
Latin,  and  were  conscious  that  they  were  writing  for  a 
learned  and  cultivated  public  only,  and  not  for  the 
people  at  large. 

This  will  require  a fuller  explanation. 


104: 


LECTURE  III. 


We  may  divide  tlie  whole  of  Sanskrit  literature, 
beginning  with  the  Rig-Yeda  and  ending  with  Daya- 
nanda’s  Introduction  to  his  edition  of  the  Rig-Yeda,  his 
by  no  means  uninteresting  Rig-Yeda-bliumika,  into  two 
great  periods  : that  preceding  the  great  Turanian  inva- 
sion, and  that  following  it. 

The  former  comprises  the  Yedic  literature  and  the 
ancient  literature  of  Buddhism,  the  latter  all  the 
rest. 

If  I call  the  invasion  which  is  generally  called  the  in- 
vasion of  the  >Sakas,  or  the  Scythians,  or  Indo-Scythians, 
or  Turushkas.  the  Turanian  * invasion , it  is  simply  be- 
cause I do  not  as  yet  wish  to  commit  myself  more  than  I 
can  help  as  to  the  nationality  of  the  tribes  who  took  pos- 
session of  India,  or,  at  least,  of  the  government  of  India, 
from  about  the  first  century  b.c.  to  the  third  century 
A.D. 

They  are  best  known  by  the  name  of  Yueh-chi , this 
being  the  name  by  which  they  are  called  in  Chinese 
chronicles.  These  Chinese  chronicles  form  the  principal 
source  from  which  we  derive  our  knowledge  of  these 
tribes,  both  before  and  after  their  invasion  of  India. 
Many  theories  have  been  started  as  to  their  relationship 
with  other  races.  They  are  described  as  of  pink  and 
white  complexion  and  as  shooting  from  horseback  ; and 
as  there  vras  some  similarity  between  their  Chinese  name 
Yueh-chi  and  the  Gotlii  or  Goths , they  were  identified 
by  Remusat  f with  those  German  tribes,  and  by  others 
with  the  Getae , the  neighbors  of  the  Goths.  Tod  went 
even  a step  farther,  and  traced  the  6rats  in  India  and  the 

* This  vague  term,  Turanian,  so  much  used  in  the  Parsi  Scriptures, 
is  used  here  in  the  sense  of  unclassified  ethnically. — A.  W. 

| “ Eecherches  sur  les  langues  Tartares,”  1820,  vol.  i.,  p.  327  ; 
“Lassen,”  I.  A.,  vol.  ii.,  p.  359, 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  105 


Rajputs  back  to  the  Yueh-chi  and  Getaz*  Some  light 
may  come  in  time  out  of  all  this  darkness,  but  for  the 
present  we  must  be  satisfied  with  the  fact  that,  between 
the  first  century  before  and  the  third  century  after  our 
era,  the  greatest  political  revolution  took  place  in  India 
owing  to  the  repeated  inroads  of  Turanian,  or,  to  use  a 
still  less  objectionable  term,  of  Northern  tribes.  Their 
presence  in  India,  recorded  by  Chinese  historians,  is 
fully  confirmed  by  coins,  by  inscriptions,  and  by  the  tra- 
ditional history  of  the  country,  such  as  it  is  ; but  to  my 
mind  nothing  attests  the  presence  of  these  foreign  in- 
vaders more  clearly  than  the  break,  or,  I could  almost 
say,  the  blank  in  the  Bralimanical  literature  of  India 
from  the  first  century  before  to  the  third  century  after 
our  era.f 

If  we  consider  the  political  and  social  state  of  that 
country,  we  can  easily  understand  what  would  happen  in 
a case  of  invasion  and  conquest  by  a warlike  race.  The 
invaders  would  take  possession  of  the  strongholds  or  cas- 
tles, and  either  remove  the  old  Rajahs,  or  make  them 

* Lassen,  who  at  first  rejected  the  identification  of  Gats  and  Yueli- 
chi,  was  afterward  inclined  to  accept  it. 

j-  The  Yueh-chi  appear  to  have  begun  their  invasion  about  130  b.c. 
At  this  period  the  Grecian  kingdom  of  Baetria,  after  a brilliant  exist- 
ence of  a century,  had  fallen  before  the  Tochari,  a Scythian  people. 
The  new  invaders,  called  ’E <f>fJa\lrai  by  the  Greeks,  had  been  driven 
out  of  their  old  abodes  and  now  occupied  the  country  lying  between 
Parthia  at  the  west,  the  Oxus  and  Surkliab,  and  extending  into  Little 
Thibet.  They  were  herdsmen  and  nomads.  At  this  time  India  was 
governed  by  the  descendants  of  Asoka,  the  great  propagandist  of 
Buddhism.  About  twenty  years  before  the  Christian  era,  or  prob- 
ably earlier,  the  Yueh-chi,  under  Karranos,  crossed  the  Indus  and 
conquered  the  country,  which  remained  subject  to  them  for  three 
centuries.  The  Chinese  historians  Sze-ma  Tsien  and  Han-yo,  give 
these  accounts,  which  are  however  confirmed  by  numismatic  and 
other  evidence. — A.  W. 


106 


LECTURE  III. 


their  vassals  and  agents.  Everything  else  would  then  go 
on  exactly  as  before.  The  rents  would  be  paid,  the 
taxes  collected,  and  the  life  of  the  villagers,  that  is,  of 
the  great  majority  of  the  people  of  India,  would  go  on 
almost  undisturbed  by  the  change  of  government.  The 
only  people  who  might  suffer  would  be,  or,  at  all  events, 
might  be  the  priestly  caste,  unless  they  should  come  to 
terms  with  the  new  conquerors.  The  priestly  caste, 
however,  was  also  to  a great  extent  the  literary  caste, 
and  the  absence  of  their  old  patrons,  the  native  Rajahs, 
might  well  produce  for  a time  a complete  cessation  of 
literary  activity.  The  rise  of  Buddhism  and  its  formal 
adoption  by  King  Asoka  had  already  considerably  shaken 
the  power  and  influence  of  the  old  Brahmanic  hierarchy. 
The  Northern  conquerors,  whatever  their  religion  may 
have  been,  were  certainly  not  believers  in  the  Veda. 
They  seem  to  have  made  a kind  of  compromise  with 
Buddhism,  and  it  is  probably  due  to  that  compromise,  or 
to  an  amalgamation  of  Aaka  legends  with  Buddhist  doc- 
trines, that  we  owTe  the  so-called  Mahayana  form  of 
Buddhism — and  more  particularly  the  Amitabha  worship 
—which  was  finally  settled  at  the  Council  under  Kan- 
islika,  one  of  the  Turanian  rulers  of  India  in  the  first 
century  a.i>. 

If  then  we  divide  the  whole  of  Sanskrit  literature  into 
these  two  periods,  the  one  anterior  to  the  great  Turanian 
invasion,  the  other  posterior  to  it,  we  may  call  the  liter- 
ature of  the  former  period  ancient  and  natural , that  of 
the  latter  modern  and  artificial. 

Of  the  former  period  we  possess,  first , what  has  been 
called  the  Veda,  i. e. , Knowledge,  in  the  widest  sense  of 
the  word — a considerable  mass  of  literature,  yet  evi- 
dently a wreck  only,  saved  out  of  a general  deluge  ; 
secondly , the  works  collected  in  the  Buddhist  Triphaka, 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  107 


now  known  to  us  chiefly  in  what  is  called  the  Pali  dia- 
lect, the  Gatha  dialects*  and  Sanskrit,  and  probably 
much  added  to  in  later  times. 

The  second  period  of  Sanskrit  literature  comprehends 
everything  else.  Both  periods  may  be  subdivided  again, 
but  this  does  not  concern  us  at  present. 

Now  I am  quite  willing  to  admit  that  the  literature  of 
the  second  period,  the  modern  Sanskrit  literature,  never 
was  a living  or  national  literature.  It  here  and  there 
contains  remnants  of  earlier  times,  adapted  to  the  liter- 
ary, religious,  and  moral  tastes  of  a later  period  ; and 
whenever  we  are  able  to  disentangle  those  ancient  ele- 
ments, they  may  serve  to  throw  light  on  the  past,  and, 
to  a certain  extent,  supplement  what  has  been  lost  in  the 
literature  of  the  Yedic  times.  The  metrical  Law-books, 
for  instance,  contain  old  materials  which  existed  during 
the  Yedic  period,  partly  in  prose,  as  Sutras,  partly  in 
more  ancient  metres,  as  Gathas.  The  Epic  poems,  the 
Mahabharata  and  Ramayawa,  have  taken  the  place  of  the 
old  Itihasas  and  Akhyanas.  The  Pursmas,  even,  may 
contain  materials,  though  much  altered,  of  what  was 
called  in  Yedic  literature  the  Puraraa.* 

But  the  great  mass  of  that  later  literature  is  artificial 
or  scholastic,  full  of  interesting  compositions,  and  by  no 
means  devoid  of  originality  and  occasional  beauty  ; yet 
with  all  that,  curious  only,  and  appealing  to  the  interests 
of  the  Oriental  scholar  far  more  than  the  broad  human 
sympathies  of  the  historian  and  the  philosopher. 

It  is  different  with  the  ancient  literature  of  India,  the 
literature  dominated  by  the  Yedic  and  the  Buddhistic 
religions.  That  literature  opens  to  us  a chapter  in  what 
has  been  called  the  Education  of  the  Human  Race,  to 


* “ Hibbert  Lectures,”  p.  154,  note. 


108 


LECTURE  III. 


which  we  can  find  no  parallel  anywhere  else.  Whoever 
cares  for  the  historical  growth  of  our  language,  that  is, 
of  our  thoughts  ; whoever  cares  for  the  first  intelligible 
development  of  religion  and  mythology  ; whoever  cares 
for  the  first  foundation  of  what  in  later  times  we  call  the 
sciences  of  astronomy,  metronomy,  grammar,  and  ety- 
mology ; whoever  cares  for  the  first  intimations  of  phil- 
osophical thought,  for  the  first  attempts  at  regulating 
family  life,  village  life,  and  state  life,  as  founded  on 
religion,  ceremonial,  tradition  and  contract  (samaya) — 
must  in  future  pay  the  same  attention  to  the  literature 
of  the  Vedic  period  as  to  the  literatures  of  Greece  and 
Rome  and  Germany. 

As  to  the  lessons  which  the  early  literature  of  Bud- 
dhism may  teach  us,  I need  not  dwell  on  them  at  present. 
If  1 may  judge  from  the  numerous  questions  that  are 
addressed  to  me  with  regard  to  that  religion  and  its 
striking  coincidences  with  Christianity,  Buddhism  has 
already  become  a subject  of  general  interest,  and  will 
and  ought  to  become  so  more  and  more.*  On  that 

* In  June,  1882,  a Conference  on  Buddhism  was  held  at  Sion  Col- 
lege, to  discuss  the  real  or  apparent  coincidences  between  the 
religions  of  Buddha  and  Christ.  Professor  Muller  addressed  two 
letters  to  the  secretary,  which  were  afterward  published,  declaring 
such  a discussion  in  general  terms  almost  an  impossibility.  “ The 
name  of  Buddhism,”  he  says,  “ is  applied  to  religious  opinions,  not 
only  of  the  most  varying,  but  of  a decidedly  opposite  character,  held 
by  people  on  the  highest  and  lowest  stages  of  civilization,  divided 
into  endless  sects,  nay,  founded  on  two  distinct  codes  of  canonical 
writings.”  Two  Buddhist  priests  who  were  reading  Sanskrit  with 
him  would  hardly  recognize  the  Buddhism  now  practiced  in  Ceylon 
as  their  own  religion. 

He  also  acknowledged  the  startling  coincidences  between  Bud- 
dhism and  Christianity,  and  that  Buddhism  existed  at  least  400  years 
before  Christianity.  He  would  go  farther,  and  feel  extremely  grateful 
if  anybody  would  point  out  to  him  the  historical  channels  through 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  109 


whole  class  of  literature,  however,  it  is  not  my  intention 
to  dwell  in  this  short  course  of  Lectures,  which  can 
hardly  suffice  even  for  a general  survey  of  A^edic  litera- 
ture, and  for  an  elucidation  of  the  principal  lessons 
which,  I think,  we  may  learn  from  the  Hymns,  the 
Brahmawas,  the  Upanishads,  and  the  Sutras. 

It  was  a real  misfortune  that  Sanskrit  literature 
became  first  known  to  the  learned  public  in  Europe 
through  specimens  belonging  to  the  second,  or,  what  I 


which  Buddhism  had  influenced  early  Christianity.  “ I have  been 
looking  for  such  channels  all  my  life,”  says  he,  “ but  hitherto  I have 
found  none.  What  I have  found  is  that  for  some  of  the  most  start- 
ling coincidences  there  are  historical  antecedents  on  both  sides  ; and 
if  we  knew  these  antecedents,  the  coincidences  become  far  less 
startling.  If  I do  find  in  certain  Buddhist  works  doctrines  iden- 
tically the  same  as  in  Christianity,  so  far  from  being  frightened,  I 
feel  delighted,  for  surely  truth  is  not  the  less  true  because  it  is 
believed  by  the  majority  of  the  human  race. 

“ I believe  we  have  made  some  progress  during  the  last  thirty 
years.  I still  remember  the  time  when  all  heathen  religions  were 
looked  upon  as  the  work  of  the  devil.*  We  know  now  that  they  are 
stages  in  a growth,  and  in  a growth  not  determined  by  an  accidental 
environment  only,  but  by  an  original  purpose,  a purpose  to  be 
realized  in  the  history  of  the  human  race  as  a whole.  Even  mission- 
aries have  begun  to  approach  the  heathen  in  a new  and  better  spirit. 
They  look  for  what  may  safely  be  preserved  in  the  religion  of  their 
pupils,  and  on  that  common  ground  they  try  to  erect  a purer  faith 
and  a better  worship,  instead  of  attempting  to  destroy  the  sacred 
foundations  of  religion,  which,  I believe,  exist,  or  at  least,  existed, 
in  every  human  heart.” 

He  also  states  that  the  publishing  of  the  “ Rig-Veda  and  Com- 
mentary,” his  life-work,  had  produced  a complete  revolution  both 
in  our  views  of  ancient  religions  and  in  the  religious  life  of  the 
Hindus  themselves  ; and  this  not  so  much  on  the  surface  as  in  its 
deepest  foundations.  - A.  W. 

* We  have  no  knowledge  of  such  a belief.  The  common  Chris' ian  theory  is  that 
Christianity  is  as  old  as  the  garden  of  Eden,  and  that  truth  in  other  religions  is  the 
result  of  contact,  somewhere,  at  some  i ime,  with  Christianity.-  Am.  Pubs. 


110 


LECTURE  III. 


called,  the  Renaissance  period.  The  Bhagavadgita,  the 
plays  of  Kalidasa,  such  as  Yakuntala  or  Urvasi,  a few 
episodes  from  the  Mahabharata  and  Rain  ay  ana,  such  as 
those  of  Nala  and  the  Ya^nadattabadha,  the  fables  of 
the  Hitopadesa,  and  the  sentences  of  Bhartrihari  are,  no 
doubt,  extremely  curious  ; and  as,  at  the  time  when  they 
first  became  known  in  Europe,  they  were  represented  to 
be  of  extreme  antiquity,  and  the  work  of  a people  for- 
merly supposed  to  be  quite  incapable  of  high  literary 
efforts,  they  naturally  attracted  the  attention  of  men 
such  as  Sir  William  Jones  in  England,  Herder  and 
Goethe  in  Germany,  who  were  pleased  to  speak  of  them 
in  terms  of  highest  admiration.  It  was  the  fashion  at 
that  time  to  speak  of  Kalidasa,  as,  for  instance,  Alexan- 
der von  Humboldt  did  even  in  so  recent  a work  as  his 
Kosmos,  as  “ the  great  contemporary  of  Yirgil  and  Hor- 
ace, who  lived  at  the  splendid  court  of  Yikramaditya,’  ’ 
this  Yikramaditya  being  supposed  to  be  the  founder  of 
the  Sam  vat  era,  56  b.c.  But  all  this  is  now  changed. 
Whoever  the  Yikramaditya  was  who  is  supposed  to  have 
defeated  the  Yakas,  and  to  have  founded  another  era, 
the  Sam  vat  era,  56  b.c.,  he  certainly  did  not  live  in  the 
first  century  b.c.  Nor  are  the  Indians  looked  upon  any 
longer  as  an  illiterate  race,  and  their  poetry  as  popular 
and  artless.  On  the  contrary,  they  are  judged  now  by 
the  same  standards  as  Persians  and  Arabs,  Italians  or 
French  ; and,  measured  by  that  standard,  such  works  as 
Kalidasa’s  plays  are  not  superior  to  many  plays  that  have 
long  been  allowed  to  rest  in  dust  and  peace  on  the 
shelves  of  our  libraries.  Their  antiquity  is  no  longer 
believed  in  by  any  critical  Sanskrit  scholar.  Kalidasa  is 
mentioned  with  Bharavi  as  a famous  poet  in  an  inscrip- 
tion * dated  a.d.  5S5-6  (507  Yaka  era),  and  for  the 

* Published  by  Fleet  in  the“  Indian  Antiquary,”  1876,  pp.  68-73, 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  Ill 


present  I see  no  reason  to  place  him  much  earlier.  As 
to  the  Laws  of  Manu,  which  used  to  be  assigned  to  a 
fabulous  antiquity,*  and  are  so  still  sometimes  by  those 
who  write  at  random  or  at  second-hand,  I doubt  whether, 
in  their  present  form,  they  can  be  older  than  the  fourth 
century  of  our  era,  nay  I am  quite  prepared  to  see  an 
even  later  date  assigned  to  them.  1 know  this  will  seem 
heresy  to  many  Sanskrit  scholars,  but  we  must  try  to  be 
honest  to  ourselves.  Is  there  any  evidence  to  constrain 
us  to  assign  the  Manava-dharma-sastra,  such  as  we  now 
possess  it,  written  in  continuous  Alokas,  to  any  date 
anterior  to  300  a.d.  ? And  if  there  is  not,  why  should 
we  not  openly  state  it,  challenge  opposition,  and  feel 
grateful  if  our  doubts  can  be  removed  ? 

That  Manu  was  a name  of  high  legal  authority  before 
that  time,  and  that  Manu  and  the  Manavam  are  fre- 
quently quoted  in  the  ancient  legal  Sutras,  is  quite  true  ; 
but  this  serves  only  to  confirm  the  conviction  that  the 
literature  which  succeeded  the  Turanian  invasion  is  full 
of  wrecks  saved  from  the  intervening  deluge.  If  what 
we  call  the  Laws  of  Manu  had  really  existed  as  a code 
of  laws,  like  the  Code  of  Justinian,  during  previous 
centuries,  is  it  likely  that  it  should  nowhere  have  been 
quoted  and  appealed  to  ? 

Varahamihira  (who  died  587  a.d.)  refers  to  Manu  sev- 
eral times,  but  not  to  a Manava-dharma-sastra  ; and  the 
only  time  where  he  seems  actually  to  quote  a number  of 
verses  from  Manu,  these  verses  are  not  to  be  met  with  in 
our  text.f 

and  first  mentioned  by  Dr.  Bhao  Daji,  Journal  Asiatic  Society,  Bom- 
bay Branch,  vol.  ix. 

* Sir  William  Jones  fixed  their  date  at  1280  b.c.  ; Elphinstone  as 
900  b.c.  It  has  recently  been  stated  that  they  could  not  reasonably 
be  placed  later  than  the  fifth  century  b.c. 

f A very  useful  indication  of  the  age  of  the  Dharma-sutras,  as  com- 


112 


LECTURE  III. 


I believe  it  will  be  found  that  the  century  in  which 
Yarahamihara  lived  and  wrote  was  the  age  of  the  liter- 
ary Renaissance  in  India.*  That  Kalidasa  and  Bharavi 

pared  with  the  metrical  Dharma-sastras  or  Samhitas,  is  to  he  found 
in  the  presence  or  absence  in  them  of  any  reference  to  written 
documents.  Such  written  documents,  if  they  existed,  could  hardly 
be  passed  over  in  silence  in  law-books,  particularly  when  the  nature 
of  witnesses  is  discussed  in  support  of  loans,  pledges,  etc.  Now, 
we  see  that  in  treating  of  the  law  of  debt  and  debtors,*  the  Dharma- 
sutras  of  Gautama,  Baudhayana,  and  Apastamba  never  mention 
evidence  in  writing.  Vasislif/ia  only  refers  to  written  evidence,  but 
in  a passage  -which  may  be  interpolated,!  considering  that  in  other 
respects  his  treatment  of  the  law  of  debt  is  very  crude.  Manu’s 
metrical  code  shows  here  again  its  usual  character.  It  is  evidently 
based  on  ancient  originals,  and  when  it  simply  reproduces  them, 
gives  us  the  impression  of  great  antiquity.  But  it  freely  admits 
more  modern  ingredients,  and  does  so  in  our  case.  It  speaks  of 
witnesses,  fixes  (heir  minimum  number  at  three,  and  discusses  very 
minutely  their  qualifications  and  disqualifications,  without  saying  a 
word  about  written  documents.  But  in  one  place  (VIII.  168)  it 
speaks  of  the  valuelessness  of  written  agreements  obtained  by  force, 
thus  recognizing  the  practical  employment  of  writing  for  commercial 
transactions.  Professor  Jolly,  \ it  is  true,  suggests  that  this  verse  may 
be  a later  addition,  particularly  as  it  occurs  totuleni  verbis  in  Narada 
(IV.  55)  ; but  the  final  composition  of  Manu’s  Samhita,  such  as  we 
possess  it,  can  hardly  be  referred  to  a period  when  writing  was  not 
yet  used,  at  all  events  for  commercial  purposes.  Manu’s  “ Law- 
book” is  older  than  Yagrfla-valkya’s,  in  which  writing  has  become  a 
familiar  subject.  Vishnu  often  agrees  literally  with  Yagfia-valkya, 
while  Narada,  as  showing  the  fullest  development  of  the  law  of  debt, 
is  most  likely  the  latest. § 

See  Bn'hatsanihita,  ed.  Kern,  pref.,  p.  43  ; Journal  of  the  R.  A.  S., 
1875,  p.  106. 

* Professor  Muller  rejects  the  theory  of  the  Sam  vat  era  and  the 
ltenaissance  of  Sanskrit  literature  in  the  first  century.  Instead,  he 

* “Tiber  das  Indische  Scliuldrecht  von  J.  Jolly,’'  ]).  291. 

t Jolly,  1.  c , p.  322  t L.  c.,  p.  290. 

§ Jolly,  1 c , p.  322.  lie  places  Katyayana  and  Bnhaspati  after  Narada,  possibly 
Vyasa  aud  Tlurita  also.  See  also  Stenzler,  Z d 1).  M.  G.  ix  664. 


HUMAK  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  113 


were  famous  at  that  time,  we  know  from  the  evidence 
of  inscriptions.  We  also  know  that  during  that  century 
the  fame  of  Indian  literature  had  reached  Persia,  and 


acknowledges  the  existence  of  a Naka  era,  bearing  date  with  the 
coronation  of  Kanishka,  78  a.d.  Although  this  monarch  was  a patron 
of  the  Buddhists,  and  the  third  collection  of  their  sacred  books  was 
made  under  his  auspices,  our  author  considers  the  period  of  .S'aka  or 
Yuen-chi  domination  from  24  b.c.  till  178  a.d.  as  a literary  inter- 
regnum. He  is  not  willing  to  suggest  any  date  for  the  Mahabharata 
or  Ramayana,  which  appear  to  have  been  then  extant.  He  exoner- 
ates Indian  epic  poetry,  however,  from  any  imputation  of  Greek 
influence.  Not  so  with  astronomy.  Aryabhafa,  the  elder,  who 
described  the  motion  of  the  earth  very  accurately,  he  considers  to 
have  had  no  predecessors  ; and  also  cites  other  Indian  authors  who 
described  the  twelve  signs  of  the  zodiac  with  Greek  names  or  their 
equivalents,  and  assigned  each  to  a region  in  the  body  of  the  Crea- 
tor, as  we  now  see  it  marked  out  in  our  almanacs.  In  this  matter 
he  is  certainly  plausible. 

The  period  of  the  Renaissance  and  the  reign  and  proper  era  of 
Vikramaditya  are  set  down  at  about  550  a.d.  He  follows  Dr.  Bhao 
Daji,  and  is  sustained  by  Mr.  Fergusson,  author  of  “ Tree  and  Ser- 
pent Worship,”  and  other  works  on  religious  architecture.  It  was 
the  period  of  learned  and  literary  men,  as  well  as  of  active  religious 
controversy.  “ Believers  in  Buddha  and  believers  in  the  Veda  lived 
together  at  this  time,”  he  remarks,  “ very  much  as  Protestants  and 
Roman  Catholics  do  at  the  present  day — fighting  when  there  is  an 
opportunity  or  necessity  for  it,  but  otherwise  sharing  the  same  air 
as  fellow-creatures.”  Among  a crowd  of  others  we  may  instance 
Dignaga,  a Buddhist,  Kalidasa,  a Siva  worshipper,  and  Manatunga, 
a Gaina,  as  frequenting  the  royal  court.  Vasubandhu,  to  whom  the 
revival  of  Buddhist  literature  was  largely  due,  was  the  son  of  a 
Brahman  and  a student  of  the  Nyaya  philosophy  ; as,  indeed, 
Hiouen-thsang,  the  Chinese  traveller,  also  studied  logic  under  a 
Brahmana  teacher. 

Vikramaditya  oscillated  between  all  parties.  Having  quarrelled 
with  the  King  of  Kasmira  and  Manorhita,  the  great  Buddhist  teacher 
at  the  convent  near  Peshawer,  he  called  an  assembly  of  Sastrikas 
and  Sramanas,  at  which  the  latter  were  denounced.  He  also  placed 
Matrigupta  (Kalidasa?)  over  that  country.  At  his  death,  however, 
the  regal  authority  was  surrendered  to  the  legitimate  king,  who  in 


114 


LECTURE  III. 


that  the  King  of  Persia,  Khosru  Xushirvan,  sent  his 
physician,  Barzoi,  to  India,  in  order  to  translate  the 
fables  of  the  Pan&atantra,  or  rather  their  original,  from 

Iris  turn  reinstated  Siladitya,  the  successor  of  Yikrama,  on  the 
throne.  This  king  also  called  an  assembly  of  divines,  and  the  Bud- 
dhists were  restored  to  their  former  position.  As  they  seem  to  have 
constituted  the  principal  men  of  learning,  I am  disposed  to  believe 
that  they  were  the  actual  restorers  of  the  golden  period  to  India. 
The  “Nine  Gems,”  Professor  Muller  is  very  confident,  belong  to  this 
period.  He  declares  that  the  philosophical  Sutras  have  no  ascer- 
tained date  prior  to  300  a.d. 

According  to  him,  we  need  not  refer  many  famous  authors  to  a 
period  anterior  to  the  fifth  century.  Kalidasa,  from  being  the  con- 
temporary of  Augustus,  becomes  the  contemporary  of  Justinian,  and 
the  very  books  which  were  most  admired  by  Sanskrit  students  as 
specimens  of  ancient  Indian  poetry  and  wisdom  find  their  rightful 
place  in  the  period  of  literary  renaissance,  coinciding  with  an  age 
of  renewed  literary  activity  in  Persia,  soon  to  be  followed  there,  as 
later  in  India,  by  the  great  Mohammedan  conquests.  It  appears  to 
me  that  he  is  altogether  too  iconoclastic.  It  is  more  than  probable 
that  the  apparent  lateness  of  date  is  due  to  the  destruction  of  books 
when  the  Buddhists  were  driven  out  of  India.  It  would  be  as  logical, 
it  seems  to  me,  to  assign  a post-Christian  date  to  the  Vendidad  and 
Yasna  because  they  had  been  lost  and  were  collected  anew  under  the 
auspices  of  a Sassanid  king.  AVe  are  told  in  the  second  book  of  the 
Maccabees  that  Antiochus  Epiphanes  burned  the  Hebrew  Scriptures, 
and  that  Judas  Makkabasus  made  a new  collection  ; yet  nobody 
pretends  that  they  ought  to  be  assigned  to  the  second  century  b.c. 
In  fact,  we  must  in  due  sincerity  give  some  room  to  faith. 

Astronomy  was  also  studied.  Aryabhatta  the  elder  had  described 
the  earth  as  making  a revolution  which  produced  the  daily  rising 
and  setting  of  the  sun.  Professor  Muller  thinks  he  had  no  predeces- 
sors. Yarahamihira  wrote  during  the  reign  of  Yikramaditya,  and 
employs  the  Yuga  in  opposition  to  the  Saka  era.  It  is  apparent, 
however,  that  the  Greek  zodiac  was  employed.  Badarayaaa  describes 
the  pictorial  representations  of  the  Twelve  Signs  and  their  relation 
to  the  body  of  Brahman  or  the  Creator  : 

“ The  Ram  is  the  head  ; the  face  of  the  Creator  is  the  Bull  ; the 
breast  would  be  the  Man-pair  ; the  heart,  the  Crab  ; the  Lion,  the 
stomach  ; the  Maid,  the  hip  ; the  Balance-bearer,  the  belly  ; the 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  115 


Sanskrit  into  Palilavi.  The  famous  “ Nine  Gems,”  or 
“ the  nine  classics,’’  as  we  should  say,  have  been  re- 
ferred, at  least  in  part,  to  the  same  age,*  and  I doubt 
whether  we  shall  be  able  to  assign  a much  earlier  date  to 
anything  we  possess  of  Sanskrit  literature,  excepting 
always  the  Yedic  and  Buddhistic  writings. 

Although  the  specimens  of  this  modern  Sanskrit  liter- 
ature, when  they  first  became  known,  served  to  arouse 
a general  interest,  and  serve  even  now  to  keep  alive  a 
certain  superficial  sympathy  for  Indian  literature,  more 
serious  students  had  soon  disposed  of  these  compositions, 
and  while  gladly  admitting  their  claim  to  be  called  pretty 
and  attractive,  could  not  think  of  allowing  to  Sanskrit 
literature  a place  among  the  world -literatures,  a place  by 
the  side  of  Greek  and  Latin,  Italian,  French,  English,  or 
German. 

There  was  indeed  a time  when  people  began  to  imag- 
ine that  all  that  was  worth  knowing  about  Indian  litera- 
ture was  known,  and  that  the  only  ground  on  which 
Sanskrit  could  claim  a place  among  the  recognized 
branches  of  learning  in  a university  was  its  usefulness 
for  the  study  of  the  Science  of  Language. 

At  that  very  time,  however,  now  about  forty  years 
ago,  a new  start  was  made,  which  has  given  to  Sanskrit 
scholarship  an  entirely  new  character.  The  chief  author 
of  that  movement  was  Burnouf,  then  professor  at  the 
College  do  France  in  Paris,  an  excellent  scholar,  but  at 

eighth  (Scorpion),  the  membrum  ; the  Archer,  his  pair  of  thighs  ; the 
Makara,  his  pair  of  knees  ; the  Pot,  his  pair  of  legs  ; the  Fish-pair,  his 
two  feet.”  Another  writer  gives  them  in  like  series  as  the  members 
of  Kala  or  Time.  Other  evidence  seems  even  more  conclusive  ; 
Varahamihira  giving  the  actual  Greek  names  in  a Sanskrit  dress. — 
A.  W. 

* Kern,  Preface  to  “ Brihatsa?nahita,  p.  20. 


1X6 


LECTURE  III. 


the  same  time  a man  of  wide  views  and  true  historical 
instincts,  and  the  last  man  to  waste  his  life  on  mere 
IS  alas  and  /Sakuntalas.  Being  brought  up  in  the  old  tra- 
ditions of  the  classical  school  in  France  (his  father  was 
the  author  of  the  well-known  Greek  Grammar),  then  for 
a time  a promising  young  barrister,  with  influential 
friends  such  as  Guizot,  Thiers,  Mignet,  Yillemain,  at 
his  side,  and  with  a brilliant  future  before  him,  he  was 
not  likely  to  spend  his  life  on  pretty  Sanskrit  ditties. 
What  he  wanted  when  he  threw  himself  on  Sanskrit  was 
history,  human  history,  world-history,  and  with  an  un- 
erring grasp  he  laid  hold  of  Vedic  literature  and  Bud- 
dhist literature,  as  the  two  stepping-stones  in  the  slough 
of  Indian  literature.  He  died  young,  and  has  left  a few 
arches  only  of  the  building  he  wished  to  rear.  But  his 
spirit  lived  on  in  his  pupils  and  his  friends,  and  few 
would  deny  that  the  first  impulse,  directly  or  indirectly, 
to  all  that  has  been  accomplished  since  by  the  students 
of  Yedic  and  Buddhist  literature,  was  given  by  Burnouf 
and  his  lectures  at  the  College  de  France. 

What  then,  you  may  ask,  do  we  find  in  that  ancient 
Sanskrit  literature  and  cannot  find  anywhere  else  ? My 
answer  is  : We  find  there  the  Aryan  man,  whom  we 
know  in  his  various  characters,  as  Greek,  Roman,  Ger- 
man, Celt,  and  Slave,  in  an  entirely  new  character. 
Whereas  in  his  migrations  northward  his  active  and  po- 
litical energies  are  called  out  and  brought  to  their  highest 
perfection,  we  find  the  other  side  of  the  human  charac- 
ter, the  passive  and  meditative,  carried  to  its  fullest 
growth  in  India.  In  some  of  the  hymns  of  the  Rig- Y eda 
we  can  still  watch  an  earlier  phase.  We  see  the  Aryan 
tribes  taking  possession  of  the  land,  and  under  the  guid- 
ance of  such  warlike  gods  as  Indra  and  the  Maruts,  de- 
fending their  new  homes  against  the  assaults  of  the 


11  UMAX  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  11? 


black-skinned  aborigines  as  well  as  against  the  inroads  of 
later  Aryan  colonists.  But  that  period  of  war  soon  came 
to  an  end,  and  when  the  great  mass  of  the  people  had 
once  settled  down  in  their  homesteads,  the  military  and 
political  duties  seem  to  have  been  monopolized  by  what 
we  call  a caste that  is  by  a small  aristocracy,  while  the 
great  majority  of  the  people  were  satisfied  with  spend- 
ing their  days  within  the  narrow  spheres  of  their  vil- 
lages, little  concerned  about  the  outside  world,  and  con- 
tent with  the  gifts  that  nature  bestowed  on  them,  with- 
out much  labor.  We  read  in  the  Mahabharata  (XIII. 
22)  : 

“ There  is  fruit  on  the  trees  in  every  forest,  which 
every  one  who  likes  may  pluck  without  trouble.  There 
is  cool  and  sweet  water  in  the  pure  rivers  here  and  there. 
There  is  a soft  bed  made  of  the  twigs  of  beautiful  creep- 
ers. And  yet  wretched  people  suffer  pain  at  the  door  of 
the  rich  !” 

At  first  sight  we  may  feel  inclined  to  call  this  quiet 
enjoyment  of  life,  this  mere  looking  on,  a degeneracy 
rather  than  a growth.  It  seems  so  different  from  what 
we  think  life  ought  to  be.  Yet,  from  a higher  point  of 

* During  times  of  conquest  and  migration,  such  as  are  represented 
to  us  in  the  hymns  of  the  Rig-Veda,  the  system  of  castes,  as  it  is 
described,  for  instance,  in  the  Laws  of  Manu,  would  have  been  a 
simple  impossibility.  It  is  doubtful  whether  such  a system  was  ever 
more  than  a social  ideal,  but  even  for  such  an  ideal  the  materials 
would  have  been  wanting  during  the  period  when  the  Aryas  were 
first  taking  possession  of  the  land  of  the  Seven  Rivers.  On  the 
other  hand,  even  during  that  early  period,  there  must  have  been  a 
division  of  labor,  and  lienee  we  expect  to  find  and  do  find  in  the 
gramas  of  the  Five  Nations,  warriors,  sometimes  called  nobles, 
leaders,  kings  ; counsellors,  sometimes  called  priests,  prophets, 
judges  ; and  working  men,  whether  ploughers,  or  builders,  or  road- 
makers.  These  three  divisions  we  can  clearly  perceive  even  in  the 
early  hymns  of  the  Rig-Veda. 


118 


I/ECT'TK'E  III. 


view  it  may  appear  that  those  Southern  Aryans  have 
chosen  the  good  part,  or  at  least  the  part  good  for  them, 
while  we,  Northern  Aryans,  have  been  careful  and 
troubled  about  many  things. 

It  is  at  all  events  a problem  worth  considering 
whether,  as  there  is  in  nature  a South  and  a North,  there 
are  not  two  hemispheres  also  in  human  nature,  both 
worth  developing — the  active,  combative,  and  political 
on  one  side,  the  passive,  meditative,  and  philosophical 
on  the  other  ; and  for  the  solution  of  that  problem  no 
literature  furnishes  such  ample  materials  as  that  of  the 
Yeda,  beginning  with  the  Hymns  and  ending  with  the 
Upanishads.  "We  enter  into  a new  world — not  always 
an  attractive  one,  least  of  all  to  us  ; but  it  possesses  one 
charm,  it  is  real,  it  is  of  natural  growth,  and  like  every- 
thing of  natural  growth,  1 believe  it  had  a hidden  pur- 
pose, and  was  intended  to  teach  us  some  kind  of  lesson 
that  is  worth  learning,  and  that  certainly  we  could  learn 
nowhere  else.  AVe  are  not  called  upon  either  to  admire 
or  to  despise  that  ancient  Yedic  literature  ; we  have 
simply  to  study  and  to  try  to  understand  it. 

There  have  been  silly  persons  who  have  represented 
the  development  of  the  Indian  mind  as  superior  to  any 
other,  nay,  who  would  make  us  go  back  to  the  Yeda  or 
to  the  sacred  writings  of  the  Buddhists  in  order  to  find 
there  a truer  religion,  a purer  morality,  and  a more  sub- 
lime philosophy  than  our  own.  1 shall  not  even  men- 
tion the  names  of  these  writers  or  the  titles  of  their 
works.  But  I feel  equally  impatient  when  I see  other 
scholars  criticising  the  ancient  literature  of  India  as  if  it 
were  the  work  of  the  nineteenth  century,  as  if  it  repre- 
sented an  enemy  that  must  be  defeated,  and  that  can 
claim  no  mercy  at  our  hands.  That  the  AYda  is  full  of 
childish,  silly,  even  to  our  minds  monstrous  concep- 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  110 


tions,  who  would  deny  ? But  even  these  monstrosi- 
ties are  interesting  and  instructive  ; nay,  many  of  them, 
if  we  can  but  make  allowance  for  different  ways  of 
thought  and  language,  contain  germs  of  truth  and  rays 
of  light,  all  the  more  striking  because  breaking  upon  us 
through  the  veil  of  the  darkest  night. 

Here  lies  the  general,  the  truly  human  interest  which 
the  ancient  literature  of  India  possesses,  and  which  gives 
it  a claim  on  the  attention,  not  only  of  Oriental  scholars 
or  of  students  of  ancient  history,  but  of  every  educated 
man  and  woman. 

There  are  problems  which  we  may  put  aside  for  a 
time,  ay,  which  we  must  put  aside  while  engaged  each 
in  our  own  hard  struggle  for  life,  but  which  will  recur 
for  all  that,  and  which,  whenever  they  do  recur,  will 
stir  us  more  deeply  than  we  like  to  confess  to  others,  or 
even  to  ourselves.  It  is  true  that  with  us  one  day  only 
out  of  seven  is  set  apart  for  rest  and  meditation,  and  for 
the  consideration  of  what  the  Greeks  called  rd  fiey iora — 
“ the  greatest  things.”  It  is  true  that  that  seventh  day 
also  is  passed  by  many  of  us  either  in  mere  church- 
going routine  or  in  thoughtless  rest.  But  whether  on 
week-days  or  on  Sundays,  whether  in  youth  or  in  old 
age,  there  are  moments,  rare  though  they  be,  yet  for 
all  that  the  most  critical  moments  of  our  life,  when  the 
old  simple  cpiestions  of  humanity  return  to  us  in  all 
their  intensity,  and  we  ask  ourselves,  What  are  we  ? 
What  is  this  life  on  earth  meant  for  ? Are  we  to  have 
no  rest  here,  but  to  be  always  toiling  and  building  up 
our  own  happiness  out  of  the  ruins  of  the  happiness  of 
our  neighbors  ? And  when  we  have  made  our  home  on 
earth  as  comfortable  as  it  can  be  made  with  steam  and 
gas  and  electricity,  are  we  really  so  much  happier  than 
the  Hindu  in  his  primitive  homestead  ? 


120 


LECTURE  III. 


With  us,  as  I said  just  now,  in  these  Northern 
climates,  where  life  is  and  always  must  be  a struggle, 
and  a hard  struggle  too,  and  where  accumulation  of 
wealth  has  become  almost  a necessity  to  guard  against 
the  uncertainties  of  old  age  or  the  accidents  inevitable  in 
our  complicated  social  life — with  us,  I say,  and  in  our 
society,  hours  of  rest  and  meditation  are  but  few  and  far 
between.  It  was  the  same  as  long  as  we  know  the  his- 
tory of  the  Teutonic  races  ; it  was  the  same  even  with 
Romans  and  Greeks.  The  European  climate,  with  its 
long  cold  winters,  in  many  places  also  the  difficulty  of 
cultivating  the  soil,  the  conflict  of  interests  between 
small  communities,  has  developed  the  instinct  of  self- 
preservation  (not  to  say  self-indulgence)  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  most  of  the  virtues  and  most  of  the  vices  of 
European  society  can  be  traced  back  to  that  source. 
Our  own  character  was  formed  under  these  influences, 
by  inheritance,  by  education,  by  necessity.  We  all  lead 
a fighting-life  ; our  highest  ideal  of  life  is  a flgliting- 
life.  We  work  till  we  can  work  no  longer,  and  are 
proud,  like  old  horses,  to  die  in  harness.  We  point  with 
inward  satisfaction  to  what  we  and  our  ancestors  have 
achieved  by  hard  work,  in  founding  a family  or  a busi- 
ness, a town  or  a state.  We  point  to  the  marvels  of 
what  we  call  civilization — our  splendid  cities,  our  high- 
roads and  bridges,  our  ships,  our  railways,  our  tele- 
graphs, our  electric  light,  our  pictures,  our  statues,  our 
music,  our  theatres.  We  imagine  we  have  made  life  on 
earth  quite  perfect — in  some  cases  so  perfect  that  we  are 
almost  sorry  to  leave  it  again.  But  the  lesson  which 
both  Brahmans  and  Buddhists  are  never  tired  of  teach- 
ing is  that  this  life  is  but  a journey  from  one  village  to 
another,  and  not  a resting-place.  Thus  we  read  : * 

* Boehtlingk,  Spriiche,  5101. 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  121 


“ As  a man  journeying  to  another  village  may  enjoy 
a night’s  rest  in  the  open  air,  but,  after  leaving  his  rest- 
ing-place, proceeds  again  on  his  journey  the  next  day, 
thus  father,  mother,  wife,  and  wealth  are  all  hut  like  a 
night’s  rest  to  us — wise  people  do  not  ■cling  to  them  for- 
ever. ’ ’ 

Instead  of  simply  despising  this  Indian  view  of  life, 
might  wre  not  pause  for  a moment  and  consider  whether 
their  philosophy  of  life  is  entirely  wrong,  and  ours  en- 
tirely right  ; whether  this  earth  was  really  meant  for 
work  only  (for  with  us  pleasure  also  has  been  changed 
into  work),  for  constant  hurry  and  flurry  ; or  whether 
we,  sturdy  Northern  Aryans,  might  not  have  been  satis- 
fied with  a little  less  of  work,  and  a little  less  of  so- 
called  pleasure,  but  with  a little  more  of  thought  and  a 
little  more  of  rest.  For,  short  as  our  life  is,  we  are  not 
mere  may-flies,  that  are  born  in  the  morning  to  die  at 
night.  We  have  a past  to  look  back  to  and  a future  to 
look  forward  to,  and  it  may  be  that  some  of  the  riddles 
of  the  future  find  their  solution  in  the  wisdom  of  the 
past. 

Then  why  should  we  always  fix  our  eyes  on  the  pres- 
ent only  ? Why  should  we  always  be  racing,  whether 
for  wealth  or  for  power  or  for  fame  ? Why  should  we 
never  rest  and  be  thankful  ? 

I do  not  deny  that  the  manly  vigor,  the  silent  endur- 
ance, the  public  spirit,  and  the  private  virtues  too,  of  the 
citizens  of  European  states  represent  one  side,  it  may  be 
a very  important  side,  of  the  destiny  which  man  has  to 
fulfil  on  earth. 

But  there  is  surely  another  side  of  our  nature,  and 
possibly  another  destiny  open  to  man  in  his  journey 
across  this  life,  which  should  not  be  entirely  ignored. 
If  we  turn  our  eyes  to  the  East,  and  particularly  to  In- 


122 


LECTURE  III. 


dia,  where  life  is,  or  at  all  events  was,  no  very  severe 
struggle,  where  the  climate  was  mild,  the  soil  fertile, 
where  vegetable  food  in  small  quantities  sufficed  to  keep 
the  body  in  health  and  strength,  where  the  simplest  hut 
or  cave  in  a forest  was  all  the  shelter  required,  and 
where  social  life  never  assumed  the  gigantic,  ay  mon- 
strous proportions  of  a London  or  Paris,  but  fulfilled  it- 
self within  the  narrow  boundaries  of  villao-e-communi- 

© 

ties — was  it  not,  I say,  natural  there,  or,  if  you  like, 
was  it  not  intended  there,  that  another  side  of  human 
nature  should  be  developed — not  the  active,  the  combat- 
ive, and  acquisitive,  but  the  passive,  the  meditative,  and 
reflective  ? Can  we  wonder  that  the  Aryans,  who  step- 
ped as  strangers  into  some  of  the  happy  fields  and  val- 
leys along  the  Indus  or  the  Ganges,  should  have  looked 
upon  life  as  a perpetual  Sunday  or  holiday,  or  a kind 
of  long  vacation,  delightful  so  long  as  it  lasts,  but 
which  must  come  to  an  end  sooner  or  later  ? Why 
should  they  have  accumulated  wealth  ? why  should  they 
have  built  palaces  ? why  should  they  have  toiled  day 
and  night  ? After  having  provided  from  day  to  day 
for  the  small  necessities  of  the  body,  they  thought  they 
had  the  right,  it  may  be  the  duty,  to  look  round  upon 
this  strange  exile,  to  look  inward  upon  themselves,  up- 
ward to  something  not  themselves,  and  to  see  whether 
they  could  not  understand  a little  of  the  true  purport  of 
that  mystery  which  we  call  life  on  earth. 

Of  course  we  should  call  such  notions  of  life  dreamy, 
unreal,  unpractical,  but  may  not  they  look  upon  our 
notions  of  life  as  short-sighted,  fussy,  and,  in  the  end, 
most  unpractical,  because  involving  a sacrifice  of  life  for 
the  sake  of  life  ? 

No  doubt  these  are  both  extreme  views,  and  they  have 
hardly  ever  been  held  or  realized  in  that  extreme  form 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  123 


by  any  nation,  whether  in  the  East  or  in  the  West.  We 
are  not  always  plodding — we  sometimes  allow  ourselves 
an  hour  of  rest  and  peace  and  thought — nor  were  the 
ancient  people  of  India  always  dreaming  and  meditating 
on  rd  neyiara,  on  the  great  problems  of  life,  but,  when 
called  upon,  we  know  that  they  too  could  tight  like 
heroes,  and  that,  without  machinery,  they  could  by 
patient  toil  raise  even  the  meanest  handiwork  into  a 
work  of  art,  a real  joy  to  the  maker  and  to  the  buyer. 

All  then  that  I wish  to  put  clearly  before  you  is  this, 
that  the  Aryan  man,  who  had  to  fulfil  his  mission  in 
India,  might  naturally  be  deficient  in  many  of  the  prac- 
tical and  fighting  virtues,  which  were  developed  in  the 
Northern  Aryans  by  the  very  struggle  without  which 
they  could  not  have  survived,  but  that  his  life  on  earth 
had  not  therefore  been  entirely  wasted.  His  very  view 
of  life,  though  we  cannot  adopt  it  in  this  Northern 
climate,  may  yet  act  as  a lesson  and  a warning  to  us, 
not,  for  the  sake  of  life,  to  sacrifice  the  highest  objects 
of  life. 

The  greatest  conqueror  of  antiquity  stood  in  silent 
wonderment  before  the  Indian  Gynmosophists,  regret- 
ting that  he  could  not  communicate  with  them  in  their 
own  language,  and  that  their  wisdom  could  not  reach 
him  except  through  the  contaminating  channels  of  sun- 
dry interpreters. 

That  need  not  be  so  at  present.  Sanskrit  is  no  longer 
a difficult  language,  and  I can  assure  every  young  Indian 
civil  servant  that  if  he  will  but  go  to  the  fountain-head 
of  Indian  wisdom,  he  will  find  there,  among  much  that 
is  strange  and  useless,  some  lessons  of  life  which  are 
worth  learning,  and  which  we  in  our  haste  are  too  apt  to 
forget  or  to  despise. 

Let  me  read  you  a few  sayings  only,  which  you  may 


124 


LECTURE  III. 


still  hear  repeated  in  India  when,  after  the  heat  of  the 
day,  the  old  and  the  young  assemble  together  under  the 
shadow  of  their  village  tree — sayings  which  to  them 
seem  truth  ; to  ns,  I fear,  mere  truism  ! 

“ As  all  have  to  sleep  together  laid  low  in  the  earth, 
why  do  foolish  people  wish  to  injure  one  another  ? * * * § 

“ A man  seeking  for  eternal  happiness  (moksha) 
might  obtain  it  by  a hundredth  part  of  the  sufferings 
which  a foolish  man  endures  in  the  pursuit  of  riches,  f 
“ Poor  men  eat  more  excellent  bread  than  the  rich  : 
for  hunger  gives  it  sweetness.:}: 

“ Onr  body  is  like  the  foam  of  the  sea,  our  life  like  a 
bird,  our  company  with  those  whom  we  love  does  not 
last  forever  ; why  then  sleepest  thou,  my  son  ? § 

“ As  two  logs  of  wood  meet  upon  the  ocean  and  then 
separate  again,  thus  do  living  creatures  meet.  || 

“ Our  meeting  with  wives,  relations,  and  friends  oc- 
curs on  onr  journey.  Let  a man  therefore  see  clearly 
where  he  is,  whither  he  will  go,  what  he  is,  why  tarry- 
ing here,  and  why  grieving  for  anything.  *[ 

“ Family,  wife,  children,  our  very  body  and  our 
wealth,  they  all  pass  away.  They  do  not  belong  to  us. 
What  then  is  ours  ? Our  good  and  onr  evil  deeds.** 

“ When  thou  goest  away  from  here,  no  one  will  fol- 
low thee.  Only  thy  good  and  thy  evil  deeds,  they  will 
follow  thee  wherever  thou  goest.  ff 

“ Whatever  act,  good  or  bad,  a man  performs,  of  that 
by  necessity  he  receives  the  recompense.^ 

“ According  to  the  Veda  §§  the  soul  (life)  is  eternal, 


* Mahabh.  XI.  121. 

f Paflfcat.  n.  127  (117). 

j Mahabk.  V.  1144. 

§ L.  c.  XU.  12050. 

J L.  c.  XII.  869. 


1 L.  c.  XU.  872. 

**  L.  c.  XH.  12453. 
ff  L.  c.  XU.  12456. 
it  L.  c.  III.  13846  (239). 
§§  L.  c.  HI.  13864. 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  125 


but  the  body  of  all  creatures  is  perishable.  When  the 
body  is  destroyed,  the  soul  departs  elsewhere,  fettered 
by  the  bonds  of  our  works. 

“If  I know  that  my  own  body  is  not  mine,  and  yet 
that  the  whole  earth  is  mine,  and  again  that  it  is  both 
mine  and  thine,  no  harm  can  happen  then.* 

“As  a man  puts  on  new  garments  in  this  world, 
throwing  aside  those  which  he  formerly  wore,  even  so 
the  Self  f of  man  puts  on  new  bodies  which  are  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  acts.  \ 

“No  weapons  will  hurt  the  Self  of  man,  no  tire  will 
burn  it,  no  water  moisten  it,  no  wind  will  dry  it  up. 

“ It  is  not  to  be  hurt,  not  to  be  burnt,  not  to  be  mois- 
tened, not  to  be  dried  up.  It  is  imperishable,  unchang- 
ing, immovable,  without  beginning. 

“ It  is  said  to  be  immaterial,  passing  all  understand- 
ing, and  unchangeable.  If  you  know  the  Self  of  man 
to  be  all  this,  grieve  not. 

There  is  nothing  higher  than  the  attainment  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  Self.  § 

“ All  living  creatures  are  the  dwelling  of  the  Self  who 
lies  enveloped  in  matter,  who  is  immortal,  and  spotless. 
Those  who  worship  the  Self,  the  immovable,  living  in  a 
movable  dwelling,  become  immortal. 

“ Despising  everything  else,  a wise  man  should  strive 
after  the  knowledge  of  the  Self.” 

We  shall  have  to  return  to  this  subject  again,  for  this 
knowledge  of  the  Self  is  really  the  Vedanta,  that  is,  the 
end,  the  highest  goal  of  the  Yeda.  The  highest  wisdom 
of  Greece  was  “ to  know  ourselves  the  highest  wis- 
dom of  India  is  “to  know  our  Self.” 

* Kam.  Nitis,  1,  23  (Boehtlingk,  918). 

f Atman,  see  Lecture  VII. — A.  W.  t Vishnu-sutras  XX.  50-53. 

§ Apastaniba  Dliarma-sutras  I.  8,  22. 


120 


LECTURE  III. 


If  I were  asked  to  indicate  by  one  word  the  distin- 
guishing feature  of  the  Indian  character,  as  I have  here 
tried  to  sketch  it,  I should  say  it  was  transcendent , using 
that  word,  not  in  its  strict  technical  sense,  as  fixed  by 
Kant,  but  in  its  more  general  acceptation,  as  denoting 
a mind  bent  on  transcending  the  limits  of  empirical 
knowledge.  There  are  minds  perfectly  satisfied  with  em- 
pirical knowledge,  a knowledge  of  facts,  well  ascertained, 
well  classified,  and  well  labelled.  Such  knowledge  may 
assume  very  vast  proportions,  and,  if  knowledge  is 
power,  it  may  impart  great  power,  real  intellectual 
poAver  to  the  man  who  can  wield  and  utilize  it.  Our 
own  age  is  proud  of  that  kind  of  knoAvledge,  and  to  be 
content  with  it,  and  never  to  attempt  to  look  beyond  it, 
is,  I believe,  one  of  the  happiest  states  of  mind  to  be  in.* 

But,  for  all  that,  there  is  a Beyond,  and  he  who  has 
once  caught  a glance  of  it,  is  like  a man  who  has  gazed 
at  the  sun — wherever  he  looks,  everywhere  he  sees  the 
image  of  the  sun.  Speak  to  him  of  finite  things,  and  he 
Avill  tell  you  that  the  Finite  is  impossible  and  meaning- 
less without  the  Infinite.  Speak  to  him  of  death,  and 
he  will  call  it  birth  ; speak  to  him  of  time,  and  he  AA7ill 
call  it  the  mere  shadoAV  of  eternity.  To  us  the  senses 
seem  to  be  the  organs,  the  tools,  the  most  poAverful  en- 
gines of  knowledge  ; to  him  they  are,  if  not  actually  de- 
ceivers, at  all  events  heavy  fetters,  checking  the  flight  of 
the  spirit.  To  us  this  earth,  this  life,  all  that  we  see, 
and  hear,  and  touch  is  certain.  Here,  Ave  feel,  is  our 
home,  here  lie  our  duties,  here  our  pleasures.  To  him 

* Can  a state  be  justly  regarded  as  one  of  happiness,  in  which  the 
essential  being  is  overlooked  and  not  regarded  ; whereas  that  subtler 
essence  is  the  reality  which  gives  life,  energy,  and  purity  to  all  our 
motives?  Is  to  be  “ of  the  earth,  earthy,”  a greater  felicity  than  to 
acknowledge  that  which  is  from  heaven  ? I trow  not. — A.  W, 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  127 

this  earth  is  a thing  that  once  was  not,  and  that  again 
will  cease  to  be  ; this  life  is  a short  dream  from  which 
we  shall  soon  awake.  Of  nothing  he  professes  greater 
ignorance  than  of  what  to  others  seems  to  be  most  cer- 
tain, namely  what  we  see,  and  hear,  and  touch  ; and  as 
to  our  home,  wherever  that  may  be,  he  knows  that  cer- 
tainly it  is  not  here. 

Do  not  suppose  that  such  men  are  mere  dreamers. 
Far  from  it  ! And  if  we  can  only  bring  ourselves  to  be 
quite  honest  to  ourselves,  we  shall  have  to  confess  that 
at  times  we  all  have  been  visited  by  these  transcendental 
aspirations,  and  have  been  able  to  understand  what 
Wordsworth  meant  when  he  spoke  of  those 

“ Obstinate  questionings 
Of  sense  and  outward  things, 

Fallings  from  us,  vanishings  ; 

Blank  misgivings  of  a creature 
Moving  about  in  worlds  not  realized.  ” 

The  transcendent  temperament  acquired  no  doubt  a 
more  complete  supremacy  in  the  Indian  character  than 
anywhere  else  ; but  no  nation,  and  no  individual,  is  en- 
tirely without  that  “yearning  beyond;”  indeed  we  all 
know  it  under  a more  familiar  name — namely,  Religion. 

It  is  necessary,  however,  to  distinguish  between  re- 
ligion and  a religion,  quite  as  much  as  in  another  branch 
of  philosophy  we  have  to  distinguish  between  language 
and  a language  or  many  languages.  A man  may  accept 
a religion,  he  may  be  converted  to  the  Christian  religion, 
and  he  may  change  his  own  particular  religion  from  time 
to  time,  just  as  he  may  speak  different  languages.  But 
in  order  to  have  a religion,  a man  must  have  religion, 
lie  must  once  at  least  in  his  life  have  looked  beyond  the 
horizon  of  this  world,  and  carried  away  in  his  mind  an 
impression  of  the  Infinite,  which  will  never  leave  him 


128 


lecture  III. 


again.  A being  satisfied  with  the  world  of  sense,  un- 
conscious of  its  finite  nature,  undisturbed  by  the  limited 
or  negative  character  of  all  perceptions  of  the  senses, 
would  be  incapable  of  any  religious  concepts.  Only 
when  the  finite  character  of  all  human  knowledge  has 
been  received  is  it  possible  for  the  human  mind  to  con- 
ceive that  which  is  beyond  the  Finite,  call  it  what  you 
like,  the  Beyond,  the  Unseen,  the  Infinite,  the  Super- 
natural, or  the  Divine.  That  step  must  have  been  taken 
before  religion  of  any  kind  becomes  possible.  What 
kind  of  religion  it  will  be,  depends  on  the  character  of 
the  race  which  elaborates  it,  its  surroundings  in  nature, 

and  its  experience  in  history. 

Now  we  may  seem  to  know  a great  many  religions— I 
speak  here,  of  course,  of  ancient  religions  only,  of  what 
are  sometimes  called  national  or  autochthonous  re- 
ligions—not  of  those  founded  in  later  times  by  individ- 
ual prophets  or  reformers. 

Yet,  among  those  ancient  religions  we  seldom  know, 
what  after  all  is  the  most  important  point,  their  origin 
and  their  gradual  growth.  The  Jewish  religion  is  repre- 
sented to  us  as  perfect  and  complete  from  the  very  first, 
and  it  is  with  great  difficulty  that  we  can  discover  its  real 
beginnings  and  its  historical  growth.  And  take  the 
Greek  and  the  Roman  religions,  take  the  religions  of  the 
Teutonic,  Slavonic,  or  Celtic  tribes,  and  you  will  find 
that  their  period  of  growth  has  always  passed,  long  be- 
fore we  know  them,  and  that  from  the  time  we  know 
them,  all  their  changes  are  purely  metamorphic— changes 
in  form  of  substances  ready  at  hand.  Row  let  us  look  to 
the  ancient  inhabitants  of  India.  With  them,  first  of 
all,  religion  was  not  only  one  interest  by  the  side  of 
many.  It  was  the  all-absorbing  interest  ; it  embraced 
not  only  worship  and  prayer,  but  what  we  call  philosophy, 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  129 


morality,  law,  and  government— all  was  pervaded  by  re- 
ligion. Their  whole  life  was  to  them  a religion — every- 
thing else  was,  as  it  were,  a mere  concession  made  to  the 
ephemeral  requirements  of  this  life. 

What  then  can  we  learn  from  the  ancient  religious 
literature  of  India,  or  from  the  Veda? 

It  requires  no  very  profound  knowledge  of  Greek  re- 
ligion and  Greek  language  to  discover  in  the  Greek  dei- 
ties the  original  outlines  of  certain  physical  phenomena. 
Every  schoolboy  knows  that  in  Zeus  there  is  something 
of  the  sky,  in  Poseidon  of  the  sea,  in  Hades  of  the 
lower  world,  in  Apollo  of  the  sun,  in  Artemis  of  the 
moon,  in  Ilephcestos  of  the  fire.  But  for  all  that,  there 
is,  from  a Greek  point  of  view,  a very  considerable 
difference  between  Zeus  and  the  sky,  between  Poseidon 
and  the  sea,  between  Apollo  and  the  sun,  between  Arte- 
mis and  the  moon. 

Now  what  do  we  find  in  the  Veda  ? No  doubt  here 
and  there  a few  philosophical  hymns  which  have  been 
quoted  so  often  that  people  have  begun  to  imagine  that 
the  Veda  is  a kind  of  collection  of  Orphic  hymns.  We 
also  find  some  purely  mythological  hymns,  in  which  the 
Devas  or  gods  have  assumed  nearly  as  much  dramatic 
personality  as  in  the  Homeric  hymns. 

But  the  great  majority  of  Vedic  hymns  consists  in  sim- 
ple invocations  of  the  fire,  the  water,  the  sky,  the  sun, 
and  the  storms,  often  under  the  same  names  which  after- 
ward became  the  proper  names  of  Hindu  deities,  but  as 
yet  nearly  free  from  all  that  can  be  called  irrational  or 
mythological.  There  is  nothing  irrational,  nothing  I 
mean  we  cannot  enter  into  or  sympathize  with,  in  people 
imploring  the  storms  to  cease,  or  the  sky  to  rain,  or  the 
sun  to  shine.  I say  there  is  nothing  irrational  in  it, 
though  perhaps  it  might  be  more  accurate  to  say  that 


130 


LECTURE  III. 


there  is  nothing  in  it  that  would  surprise  anybody  who  is 
acquainted  with  the  growth  of  human  reason,  or  at  all 
events,  of  childish  reason.  It  does  not  matter  how  we 
call  the  tendency  of  the  childish  mind  to  confound  the 
manifestation  with  that  which  manifests  itself,  effect 
with  cause,  act  with  agent.  Call  it  Animism,  Personifi- 
cation, Metaphor,  or  Poetry,  we  all  know  what  is  meant 
by  it,  in  the  most  general  sense  of  all  these  names  ; we 
all  know  that  it  exists,  and  the  youngest  child  who  beats 
the  chair  against  which  he  has  fallen,  or  who  scolds  his 
dog,  or  who  sings:  “ Rain,  rain,  go  to  Spain,'’  can 
teach  us  that,  however  irrational  all  this  may  seem  to  us, 
it  is  perfectly  rational,  natural,  ay  inevitable  in  the  first 
periods,  or  the  childish  age  of  the  human  mind. 

Now  it  is  exactly  this  period  in  the  growth  of  ancient 
religion,  which  was  always  presupposed  or  postulated, 
but  was  absent  everywhere  else,  that  is  clearly  put  be- 
fore us  in  the  hymns  of  the  Pig-V eda.  It  is  this  ancient 
chapter  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind  which  has 
been  preserved  to  us  in  Indian  literature,  while  we  look 
for  it  in  vain  in  Greece  or  Rome  or  elsewhere. 

It  has  been  a favorite  idea  of  those  who  call  them- 
selves “students  of  man,”  or  anthropologists,,  that  m 
order  to  know  the  earliest  or  so-called  prehistoric  phases 
in  the  growth  of  man,  we  should  study  the  life  of  savage 
nations,  as  we  may  watch  it  still  in  some  parts  of  Asia, 

Africa,  Polynesia,  and  America. 

There  is  much  truth  in  this,  and  nothing  can  be  more 
useful  than  the  observations  which  we  find  collected  m 
the  works  of  such  students  as  Waite,  Tylor,  Lubbock, 
and  many  others.  But  let  us  be  honest,  and  confess, 
first  of  all,  that  the  materials  on  which  we  have  here  to 
depend  are  often  extremely  untrustworthy. 

Nor  is  this  all.  What  do  we  know  of  savage  tribes 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OP  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  131 


beyond  the  last  chapter  of  their  history  ? Do  we  ever 
set  an  insight  into  their  antecedents  ? Can  we  under- 
stand,  what  after  all  is  everywhere  the  most  important 
and  the  most  instructive  lesson  to  learn,  how  they  have 
come  to  be  what  they  are  ? There  is  indeed  their  lan- 
guage, and  in  it  we  see  traces  of  growth  that  point  to 
distant  ages,  quite  as  much  as  the  Greek  of  Homer  or 
the  Sanskrit  of  the  Vedas.  Their  language  proves  in- 
deed that  these  so-called  heathens,  with  their  compli- 
cated systems  of  mythology,  their  artificial  customs, 
their  unintelligible  whims  and  savageries,  are  not  the 
creatures  of  to-day  or  yesterday.  Unless  we  admit  a 
special  creation  for  these  savages,  they  must  be  as  old  as 
the  Hindus,  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  as  old  as  we  our- 
selves. We  may  assume,  of  course,  if  we  like,  that 
their  life  has  been  stationary,  and  that  they  are  to-day 
what  the  Hindus  were  no  longer  3000  years  ago.  But 
that  is  a mere  guess,  and  is  contradicted  by  the  facts  of 
their  language.  They  may  have  passed  through  ever  so 
many  vicissitudes,  and  what  we  consider  as  primitive 
may  be,  for  all  we  know,  a relapse  into  savagery,  or  a 
corruption  of  something  that  was  more  rational  and  in- 
telligible in  former  stages.  Think  only  of  the  rules  that 
determine  marriage  among  the  lowest  of  savage  tribes. 
Their  complication  passes  all  understanding,  all  seems  a 
chaos  of  prejudice,  superstition,  pride,  vanity,  and  stu- 
pidity. And  yet  we  catch  a glimpse  here  and  there  that 
there  was  some  reason  in  most  of  that  unreason  ; we  see 
how  sense  dwindled  away  into  nonsense,  custom  into  cer- 
emony, ceremony  into  farce.  Why  then  should  this  sur- 
face of  savage  life  represent  to  us  the  lowest  stratum  of 
human  life,  the  very  beginnings  of  civilization,  simply 
because  we  cannot  dig  beyond  that  surface  ? 

Now,  I do  not  wish  to  be  misunderstood.  I do  not 


132 


LECTURE  III. 


claim  for  the  ancient  Indian  literature  any  more  than  I 
should  willingly  concede  to  the  fables  and  traditions  and 
songs  of  savage  nations,  such  as  we  can  study  at  present 
in  what  we  call  a state  of  nature.  Both  are  important 
documents  to  the  student  of  the  Science  of  Man.  I 
simply  say  that  in  the  Yeda  we  have  a nearer  approach 
to  a beginning,  and  an  intelligible  beginning,  than  in  the 
wild  invocations  of  Hottentots  or  Bushmen.  But  when 
1 speak  of  a beginning,  I do  not  mean  an  absolute  begin- 
ning, a beginning  of  all  things.  Again  and  again  the 
question  has  been  asked  whether  we  could  bring  our- 
selves to  believe  that  man,  as  soon  as  he  could  stand  on 
his  legs,  instead  of  crawling  on  all  fours,  as  he  is  sup- 
posed to  have  done,  burst  forth  into  singing  Yedic 
hymns  ? But  who  has  ever  maintained  this  ? Surely 
whoever  has  eyes  to  see  can  see  in  every  Yedic  hymn,  ay, 
in  every  Yedic  word,  as  many  rings  within  rings  as  are 
in  the  oldest  tree  that  was  ever  hewn  down  in  the  forest. 

1 shall  say  even  more,  and  I have  said  it  before, 
namely,  that  supposing  that  the  Yedic  hymns  were  com- 
posed between  1500  and  1000  b.c.,  we  can  hardly  under- 
stand how,  at  so  early  a date,  the  Indians  had  developed 
ideas  which  to  us  sound  decidedly  modern.  I should 
give  anything  if  I could  escape  from  the  conclusion  that 
the  collection  of  the  Yedic  Hymns,  a collection  in  ten 
books,  existed  at  least  1000  b.c.,  that  is,  about  500  years 
before  the  rise  of  Buddhism.  I do  not  mean  to  say  that 
something  may  not  be  discovered  hereafter  to  enable  us 
to  refer  that  collection  to  a later  date.  All  I say  is  that, 
so  far  as  we  know  at  present,  so  far  as  all  honest  San- 
skrit scholars  know  at  present,  we  cannot  well  bring  our 
pre-Buddhistic  literature  into  narrower  limits  than  five 
hundred  years. 

What  then  is  to  be  done  ? We  must  simply  keep  our 


HUMAN  INTEREST  OF  SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  133 


preconceived  notions  of  what  people  call  primitive 
humanity  in  abeyance  for  a time,  and  if  we  find  that 
people  three  thousand  years  ago  were  familiar  with  ideas 
that  seem  novel  and  nineteenth-century -like  to  us,  well, 
we  must  somewhat  modify  our  conceptions  of  the  prim- 
itive savage,  and  remember  that  things  hid  from  the 
wise  and  prudent  have  sometimes  been  revealed  to  babes. 

I maintain  then  that  for  a study  of  man,  or,  if  you 
like,  for  a study  of  Aryan  humanity,  there  is  nothing  in 
the  world  equal  in  importance  with  the  Yeda.  I main- 
tain that  to  everybody  who  cares  for  himself,  for  his  an- 
cestors, for  his  history,  or  for  his  intellectual  develop- 
ment, a study  of  Vedic  literature  is  indispensable  ; and 
that,  as  an  element  of  liberal  education,  it  is  far  more 
important  and  far  more  improving  than  the  reigns  of 
Babylonian  and  Persian  kings. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  the  reluctance  with  which 
these  facts  are  accepted,  particularly  by  those  to  whom 
they  ought  to  be  most  welcome,  I mean  the  students  of 
anthropology.  Instead  of  devoting  all  their  energy  to 
the  study  of  these  documents,  which  have  come  upon  us 
like  a miracle,  they  seem  only  bent  on  inventing  excuses 
why  they  need  not  be  studied.  Let  it  not  be  supposed 
that,  because  there  are  several  translations  of  the  Iiig- 
Yeda  in  English,  French  and  German,  therefore  all  that 
the  Yeda  can  teach  us  has  been  learned.  Far  from  it. 
Every  one  of  these  translations  has  been  put  forward  as 
tentative  only.  I myself,  though  during  the  last  thirty 
years  I have  given  translations  of  a number  of  the  more 
important  hymns,  have  only  ventured  to  publish  a spec- 
imen of  what  I think  a translation  of  the  Yeda  ought  to 
be  ; and  that  translation,  that  traduction  raisonnee  as  1 
ventured  to  call  it,  of  twelve  hymns  only,  fills  a whole 
volume.  We  are  still  on  the  mere  surface  of  Yedic  lit- 


134 


LECTURE  III. 


erature,  and  yet  our  critics  are  ready  with  ever  so  many 
arguments  why  the  Veda  can  teach  us  nothing  as  to  a 
primitive  state  of  man.  If  they  mean  by  primitive  that 
which  came  absolutely  first,  then  they  ask  for  some- 
thing which  they  will  never  get,  not  even  if  they  dis- 
covered the  private  correspondence  of  Adam  and  Eve,  or 
of  the  first  Homo  and  Femina  sapiens.  We  mean  by 
primitive  the  earliest  state  of  man  of  which,  from  the 
nature  of  the  case,  we  can  hope  to  gain  any  knowledge  ; 
and  here,  next  to  the  archives  hidden  away  in  the  secret 
drawers  of  language,  in  the  treasury  of  words  common 
to  all  the  Aryan  tribes,  and  in  the  radical  elements  of 
which  each  word  is  compounded,  there  is  no  literary 
relic  more  full  of  lessons  to  the  tme  anthropologist,  to 
the  true  student  of  mankind,  than  the  Rig- Veda. 


LECTURE  IV. 


OBJECTIONS. 

It  may  be  quite  true  that  controversy  often  does  more 
harm  than  good,  that  it  encourages  the  worst  of  all  tal- 
ents, that  of  plausibility,  not  to  say  dishonesty,  and  gen- 
erally leaves  the  world  at  large  worse  confounded  than  it 
was  before.  It  has  been  said  that  no  clever  lawyer 
would  shrink  from  taking  a brief  to  prove  that  the  earth 
forms  the  centre  of  the  world,  and,  with  all  respect  for 
English  juries,  it  is  not  impossible  that  even  in  our  days 
he  might  gain  a verdict  against  Galileo.  Nor  do  I 
deny  that  there  is  a power  and  vitality  in  truth  which  in 
the  end  overcomes  and  survives  all  opposition,  as  shown 
by  the  very  doctrine  of  Galileo  which  at  present  is  held 
by  hundreds  and  thousands  who  would  find  it  extremely 
difficult  to  advance  one  single  argument  in  its  support. 
I am  ready  to  admit  also  that  those  who  have  done  the 
best  work,  and  have  contributed  most  largely  toward  the 
advancement  of  knowledge  tfnd  the  progress  of  truth, 
have  seldom  wasted  their  time  in  controversy,  but  have 
marched  on  straight,  little  concerned  either  about  ap- 
plause on  the  right  or  abuse  on  the  left.  All  this  is 
true,  perfectly  true,  and  yet  I feel  that  I cannot  escape 
from  devoting  the  whole  of  a lecture  to  the  answering  of 
certain  objections  which  have  been  raised  against  the 
views  which  I have  put  forward  with  regard  to  the  char- 
acter and  the  historical  importance  of  Vedic  literature. 
We  must  not  forget  that  the  whole  subject  is  new,  the 


336 


LECTURE  IV. 


number  of  competent  judges  small,  and  mistakes  not 
only  possible,  but  almost  inevitable.  Besides,  there  are 
mistakes  and  mistakes,  and  the  errors  of  able  men  are 
often  instructive,  nay  one  might  say  sometimes  almost 
indispensable  for  the  discovery  of  truth.  There  are  criti- 
cisms which  may  be  safely  ignored,  criticisms  for  the 
sake  of  criticism,  if  not  inspired  by  meaner  motives. 
But  there  are  doubts  and  difficulties  which  suggest  them- 
selves naturally,  objections  which  have  a right  to  be 
heard,  and  the  very  removal  of  which  forms  the  best 
approach  to  the  stronghold  of  truth.  Nowhere  has  this 
principle  been  so  fully  recognized  and  been  acted  on  as 
in  Indian  literature.  Whatever  subject  is  started,  the 
rule  is  that  the  argument  should  begin  with  the  purva- 
paksha,  with  all  that  can  be  said  against  a certain  opin- 
ion. Every  possible  objection  is  welcome,  if  only  it  is 
not  altogether  frivolous  and  absurd,  and  then  only  fol- 
lows the  uttarapaksha,  with  all  that  can  be  said  against 
these  objections  and  in  support  of  the  original  opinion. 
Only  when  this  process  has  been  fully  gone  through  is  it 
allowed  to  represent  an  opinion  as  siddhanta,  or  estab- 
lished. 

Therefore,  before  opening  the  pages  of  the  Yeda,  and 
giving  you  a description  of  the  poetry,  the  religion,  and 
philosophy  of  the  ancient  inhabitants  of  India,  I thought 
it  right  and  necessary  to  establish,  first  of  all,  certain 
points  without  which  it  would  be  impossible  to  form  a 
right  appreciation  of  the  historical  value  of  the  Yedic 
hymns,  and  of  their  importance  even  to  us  who  live  at  so 
great  a distance  from  those  early  poets. 

The  first  point  was  purely  preliminary,  namely  that 
the  Hindus  in  ancient,  and  in  modern  times  also,  are  a 
nation  deserving  of  our  interest  and  sympathy,  worthy 
also  of  our  confidence,  and  by  no  means  guilty  of  the 


OBJECTION'S. 


137 


charge  so  recklessly  brought  against  them — the  charge 
of  an  habitual  disregard  of  truth. 

Secondly,  that  the  ancient  literature  of  India  is  not  to 
be  considered  simply  as  a curiosity  and  to  be  handed 
over  to  the  good  pleasure  of  Oriental  scholars,  but  that, 
both  by  its  language,  the  Sanskrit,  and  by  its  most 
ancient  literary  documents,  the  Yedas,  it  can  teach  us 
lessons  which  nothing  else  can  teach,  as  to  the  origin  of 
our  own  language,  the  first  formation  of  our  own  con- 
cepts, and  the  true  natural  germs  of  all  that  is  compre- 
hended under  the  name  of  civilization,  at  least  the  civil- 
ization of  the  Aryan  race,  that  race  to  which  we  and  all 
the  greatest  nations  of  the  world — the  Hindus,  the  Per- 
sians, the  Greeks  and  Romans,  the  Slaves,  the  Celts, 
and  last,  not  least,  the  Teutons,  belong.  A man  may  be 
a good  and  useful  ploughman  without  being  a geologist, 
without  knowing  the  stratum  on  which  he  takes  his 
stand,  or  the  strata  beneath  that  give  support  to  the  soil 
on  which  he  lives  and  works,  and  from  which  he  draws 
his  nourishment.  And  a man  may  be  a good  and  useful 
citizen,  without  being  an  historian,  without  knowing 
how  the  world  in  which  he  lives  came  about,  and  how 
many  phases  mankind  had  to  pass  through  in  language, 
religion,  and  philosophy,  before  it  could  supply  him 
with  that  intellectual  soil  on  which  he  lives  and  works, 
and  from  which  he  draws  his  best  nourishment. 

But  there  must  always  be  an  aristocracy  of  those  who 
know,  and  who  can  trace  back  the  best  which  we  pos- 
sess, not  merely  to  a Norman  count,  or  a Scandinavian 
viking,  or  a Saxon  earl,  but  to  far  older  ancestors  and 
benefactors,  who  thousands  of  years  ago  were  toiling 
for  us  in  the  sweat  of  their  face,  and  without  whom  we 
should  never  be  what  we  are — the  ancestors  of  the  whole 
Aryan  race,  the  first  framers  of  our  words,  the  first  poets 


138 


LECTURE  IV. 


of  our  thoughts,  the  first  givers  of  our  laws,  the  first 
prophets  of  our  gods,  and  of  Him  who  is  God  above  all 
gods. 

That  aristocracy  of  those  who  know — di  color  che 
som.no — or  try  to  know,  is  open  to  all  who  are  willing  to 
enter,  to  all  who  have  a feeling  for  the  past,  an  interest 
in  the  genealogy  of  our  thoughts,  and  a reverence  for 
the  ancestry  of  our  intellect,  who  are  in  fact  historians  in 
the  true  sense  of  the  word,  i.e.  inquirers  into  that  which 
is  past,  but  not  lost. 

Thirdly,  having  explained  to  you  why  the  ancient  lit- 
erature of  India,  the  really  ancient  literature  of  that 
country,  I mean  that  of  the  Vedic  period,  deserves  the 
careful  attention,  not  of  Oriental  scholars  only,  but  of 
every  educated  man  and  woman  who  wishes  to  know 
how  we,  even  we  here  in  England  and  in  this  nineteenth 
century  of  ours,  came  to  be  what  we  are,  1 tried  to  ex- 
plain to  you  the  difference,  and  the  natural  and  inevita- 
ble difference,  between  the  development  of  the  human 
character  in  such  different  climates  as  those  of  India  and 
Europe.  And  while  admitting  that  the  Hindus  were  de- 
ficient in  many  of  those  manly  virtues  and  practical 
achievements  which  we  value  most,  I wished  to  point  out 
that  there  was  another  sphere  of  intellectual  activity  in 
which  the  Hindus  excelled — the  meditative  and  trans- 
cendent— and  that  here  we  might  learn  from  them  some 
lessons  of  life  which  we  ourselves  are  but  too  apt  to  ig- 
nore or  to  despise. 

Fourthly , fearing  that  I might  have  raised  too  high 
expectations  of  the  ancient  wisdom,  the  religion  and 
philosophy  of  the  Vedic  Indians,  I felt  it  my  duty  to 
state  that,  though  primitive  in  one  sense,  we  must  not 
expect  the  Vedic  religion  to  be  primitive  in  the  anthro- 
pological sense  of  the  word,  as  containing  the  utterances 


OBJECTION'S. 


139 


of  beings  who  had  just  broken  their  shells,  and  were 
wonderingly  looking  out  for  the  first  time  upon  this 
strange  world.  The  Veda  may  be  called  primitive,  be- 
cause there  is  no  other  literary  document  more  primitive 
than  it  ; but  the  language,  the  mythology,  the  religion 
and  philosophy  that  meet  us  in  the  Veda  open  vistas  of 
the  past  which  no  one  would  venture  to  measure  in 
years.  Nay,  they  contain,  by  the  side  of  simple, 
natural,  childish  thoughts,  many  ideas  which  to  us  sound 
modern,  or  secondary  and  tertiary,  as  1 called  them,  but 
which  nevertheless  are  older  than  any  other  literary  doc- 
ument, and  give  us  trustworthy  information  of  a period 
in  the  history  of  human  thought  of  which  we  knew  ab- 
solutely nothing  before  the  discovery  of  the  Vedas.* 

But  even  thus  our  path  is  not  yet  clear.  Other  objec- 
tions have  been  raised  against  the  Veda  as  an  historical 
document.  Some  of  them  are  important  ; and  I have 
at  times  shared  them  myself.  Others  are  at  least  in- 
structive, and  will  give  us  an  opportunity  of  testing  the 
foundation  on  which  we  stand. 

The  first  objection  then  against  our  treating  the  Veda 
as  an  historical  document  is  that  it  is  not  truly  national 
in  its  character,  and  does  not  represent  the  thoughts  of 
the  whole  of  the  population  of  India,  but  only  of  a small 
minority,  namely  of  the  Brahmans,  and  not  even  of  the 
whole  class  of  Brahmans,  but  only  of  a small  minority  of 
them,  namely  of  the  professional  priests. 

Objections  should  not  be  based  on  demands  which, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  are  unreasonable.  Have 
those  who  maintain  that  the  Vedic  hymns  do  not  repre- 

* If  we  applied  the  name  of  literature  to  the  cylinders  of  Babylon 
and  the  papyri  of  Egypt,  we  should  have  to  admit  that  some  of  these 
documents  are  more  ancient  than  any  date  we  dare  as  yet  assign  to 
the  hymns  collected  in  the  ten  books  of  the  Big-Veda. 


140 


LECTURE  IT. 


sent  tlie  whole  of  India,  that  is  the  whole  of-  its  ancient 
population,  in  the  same  manner  as  they  say  that  the 
Bible  represents  the  Jews  or  Homer  the  Greeks,  consid- 
ered what  they  are  asking  for  ? So  far  from  denying 
that  the  Yedie  hymns  represent  only  a small  and,  it  may 
be,  a priestly  minority  of  the  ancient  population  of  India, 
the  true  historian  would  probably  feel  inclined  to  urge 
the  same  cautions  against  the  Old  Testament  and  the 
Homeric  poems  also. 

No  doubt,  after  the  books  which  compose  the  Old  Tes- 
tament had  been  collected  as  a Sacred  Canon,  they  were 
known  to  the  majority  of  the  Jews.  But  when  we 
speak  of  the  primitive  state  of  the  Jews,  of  their  moral, 
intellectual,  and  religious  status  while  in  Mesopotamia 
or  Canaan  or  Egypt,  we  should  find  that  the  different 
books  of  the  Old  Testament  teach  us  as  little  of  the 
whole  Jewish  race,  with  all  its  local  characteristics  and 
social  distinctions,  as  the  Homeric  poems  do  of  all  the 
Greek  tribes,  or  the  Yedie  hymns  of  all  the  inhabitants 
of  India.  Surely,  even  when  we  speak  of  the  history  of 
the  Greeks  or  the  Romans,  we  know  that  we  shall  not 
find  there  a complete  picture  of  the  social,  intellectual, 
and  religious  life  of  a whole  nation.  We  know  very 
little  of  the  intellectual  life  of  a whole  nation,  even  dur- 
ing the  Middle  Ages,  ay,  even  at  the  present  day.  W e 
may  know  something  of  the  generals,  of  the  command- 
ers-in-chief,  but  of  the  privates,  of  the  millions,  we 
know  next  to  nothing.  And  what  we  do  know  of  kings 
or  generals  or  ministers  is  mostly  no  more  than  what  was 
thought  of  them  by  a few  Greek  poets  or  J ewish 
prophets,  men  who  were  one  in  a million  among  their 
contemporaries. 

But  it  might  be  said  that  though  the  writers  were  few, 
the  readers  were  many.  Is  that  so  ? I believe  you 


OBJECTIONS. 


141 


would  be- surprised  to  bear  how  small  the  number  of 
readers  is  even  in  modern  times,  while  in  ancient  times 
reading  was  restricted  to  the  very  smallest  class  of  privi- 
leged persons.  There  may  have  been  listeners  at  public 
and  private  festivals,  at  sacrifices,  and  later  on  in  thea- 
tres, but  readers,  in  our  sense  of  the  word,  are  a very 
modern  invention. 

There  never  has  been  so  much  reading,  reading  spread 
over  so  large  an  area,  as  in  our  times.  But  if  you  asked 
publishers  as  to  the  number  of  copies  sold  of  books 
which  are  supposed  to  have  been  read  by  everybody,  say 
Macaulay’s  History  of  England,  the  Life  of  the  Prince 
Consort,  or  Darwin’s  Origin  of  Species,  you  would  find 
that  out  of  a population  of  thirty-two  millions  not  one 
million  has  possessed  itself  of  a copy  of  these  works. 
The  book  which  of  late  has  probably  had  the  largest  sale 
is  the  Revised  Version  of  the  New  Testament  ; and  yet 
the  whole  number  of  copies  sold  among  the  eighty  mill- 
ions of  English-speaking  people  is  probably  not  more  than 
four  millions.  Of  ordinary  books  which  are  called  books 
of  the  season,  and  which  are  supposed  to  have  had  a 
great  success,  an  edition  of  three  or  four  thousand  copies 
is  not  considered  unsatisfactory  by  publishers  or  authors 
in  England.  But  if  you  look  to  other  countries,  such, 
for  instance,  as  Russia,  it  would  be  very  difficult  indeed 
to  name  books  that  could  be  considered  as  representative 
of  the  whole  nation,  or  as  even  known  by  more  than  a 
very  small  minority. 

And  if  we  turn  our  thoughts  back  to  the  ancient 
nations  of  Greece  and  Italy,  or  of  Persia  and  Babylonia, 
what  book  is  there,  with  the  exception  perhaps  of  the 
Homeric  poems,  of  which  -we  could  say  that  it  had  been 
read  or  even  heard  of  by  more  than  a few  thousand  peo- 
ple ? We  think  of  Greeks  and  Romans  as  literary  peo- 


142 


LECTURE  IV. 


pie,  and  so  no  doubt  they  were,  but  in  a very  different 
sense  from  what  we  mean  by  this.  What  we  call 
Greeks  and  Romans  are  chiefly  the  citizens  of  Athens 
and  Rome,  and  here  again  those  who  could  produce  or 
who  could  read  such  works  as  the  Dialogues  of  Plato  or 
the  Epistles  of  Horace  constituted  a very  small  intellect- 
ual aristocracy  indeed.  What  we  call  history — the  mem- 
ory of  the  past — has  always  been  the  work  of  minorities. 
Millions  and  millions  pass  away  unheeded,  and  the  few 
only  to  whom  has  been  given  the  gift  of  fusing  speech 
and  thought  into  forms  of  beauty  remain  as  witnesses  of 
the  past. 

If  then  we  speak  of  times  so  distant  as  those  repre- 
sented by  the  Rig-Veda,  and  of  a country  so  disinte- 
grated, or  rather  as  yet  so  little  integrated  as  India  was 
three  thousand  years  ago,  surely  it  requires  but  little  re- 
flection to  know  that  what  we  see  in  the  Yedic  poems 
are  but  a few  snow-clad  peaks,  representing  to  us,  from 
a far  distance,  the  whole  mountain-range  of  a nation, 
completely  lost  beyond  the  horizon  of  history.  When 
we  speak  of  the  Vedic  hymns  as  representing  the  relig- 
ion, the  thoughts  and  customs  of  India  three  thousand 
years  ago,  we  cannot  mean  by  India  more  than  some  un- 
known quantity  of  which  the  poets  of  the  Yeda  are  the 
only  spokesmen  left.  When  we  now  speak  of  India,  we 
think  of  250  millions,  a sixth  part  of  the  whole  human 
race,  peopling  the  vast  peninsula  from  the  Himalayan 
mountains  between  the  arms  of  the  Indus  and  the  Gan- 
ges, down  to  Cape  Comorin  and  Ceylon,  an  extent  of 
country  nearly  as  large  as  Europe.  In  the  Yeda  the 
stage  on  which  the  life  of  the  ancient  kings  and  poets  is 
acted,  is  the  valley  of  the  Indus  and  the  Punjab,  as  it  is 
now  called,  the  Sapta  Sindhasa/<,  the  Seven  Rivers  of  the 
Yedic  poets.  The  land  watered  by  the  Ganges  is  hardly 


OBJECTIONS. 


143 


known,  and  the  whole  of  the  Dekkan  seems  not  jet  to 
have  been  discovered. 

Then  again,  when  these  Yedic  hymns  are  called  the 
lucubrations  of  a few  priests,  not  the  outpourings  of  the 
genius  of  a whole  nation,  what  does  that  mean  ? We 
may  no  doubt  call  these  ancient  Yedic  poets  priests,  if 
we  like,  and  no  one  would  deny  that  their  poetry  is  per- 
vaded not  only  by  religious,  mythological,  and  philoso- 
phical, but  likewise  by  sacrificial  and  ceremonial  conceits. 
Still  a priest,  if  we  trace  him  back  far  enough,  is  only  a 
presbyteros  or  an  elder,  and,  as  such,  those  Yedic  poets 
had  a perfect  right  to  speak  in  the  name  of  a whole  class, 
or  of  the  village  community  to  which  they  belonged. 
Call  Yasish^Aa  a priest  by  all  means,  only  do  not  let  us 
imagine  that  he  was  therefore  very  like  Cardinal  Man- 
ning. 

After  we  have  made  every  possible  concession  to  argu- 
ments, most  of  which  are  purely  hypothetical,  there  re- 
mains tins  great  fact  that  here,  in  the  Rig-Yeda,  we  have 
poems,  composed  in  perfect  language,  in  elaborate  metre, 
telling  us  about  gods  and  men,  about  sacrifices  and  bat- 
tles, about  the  varying  aspects  of  nature  and  the  chang- 
ing conditions  of  society,  about  duty  and  pleasure,  phi- 
losophy and  morality — articulate  voices  reaching  us  from 
a distance  from  which  we  never  lxeard  before  the  faintest 
whisper  ; and  instead  of  thrilling  with  delight  at  this 
almost  miraculous  discovery,  some  critics  stand  aloof  and 
can  do  nothing  but  find  fault,  because  these  songs  do  not 
represent  to  us  primitive  men  exactly  as  they  think  they 
ought  to  have  been  ; not  like  Papuas  or  Bushmen,  with 
arboraceous  habits  and  half -animal  clicks,  not  as  worship- 
ping stocks  or  stones,  or  believing  in  fetiches,  as  accord- 
ing to  Comte’s  inner  consciousness  they  ought  to  have 
done,  but  rather,  1 must  confess,  as  beings  whom  we  can 


144 


LECTURE  IT. 


understand,  with  whom  to  a certain  extent  we  can  sym- 
pathize, and  to  whom,  in  the  historical  progress  of  the 
human  intellect,  we  may  assign  a place  not  very  far  be- 
hind the  ancient  Jews  and  Greeks. 

Once  more  then,  if  we  mean  by  primitive,  people  who 
inhabited  this  earth  as  soon  as  the  vanishing  of  the 
glacial  period  made  this  earth  inhabitable,  the  Yedic 
poets  were  certainly  not  primitive.  If  we  mean  by 
primitive,  people  who  were  without  a knowledge  of  lire, 
who  used  unpolished  Hints,  and  ate  raw  flesh,  the  Yedic 
poets  were  not  primitive.  If  we  mean  by  primitive, 
people  who  did  not  cultivate  the  soil,  had  no  fixed 
abodes,  no  kings,  no  sacrifices,  no  laws,  again,  I say,  the 
Yedic  poets  were  not  primitive.  But  if  we  mean  by 
primitive  the  people  who  have  been  the  first  of  the 
Aryan  race  to  leave  behind  literary  relics  of  their  exist- 
ence on  earth,  then  I say  the  Yedic  poets  are  primitive, 
the  Y edic  language  is  primitive,  the  Yedic  religion  is 
primitive,  and,  taken  as  a whole,  more  primitive  than 
anything  else  that  we  are  ever  likely  to  recover  in  the 
whole  history  of  our  race. 

When  all  these  objections  had  failed,  a last  trump  was 
played.  The  ancient  Yedic  poetry  was  said  to  be,  if  not 
of  foreign  origin,  at  least  very  much  infected  by  foreign, 
and  more  particularly  by  Semitic  influences.  It  had  al- 
ways been  urged  by  Sanskrit  scholars  as  one  of  the  chief 
attractions  of  Yedic  literature  that  it  not  only  allowed  us 
an  insight  into  a very  early  phase  of  religious  thought, 
but  that  the  Y edic  religion  was  the  only  one  the  develop- 
ment of  which  took  place  without  any  extraneous  influ- 
ences, and  could  be  watched  through  a longer  series  of 
centuries  than  any  other  religion.  Now  with  regard  to 
the  first  point,  we  know  how  perplexing  it  is  in  the  re- 
ligion of  ancient  Rome  to  distinguish  between  Italian 


OBJECTIONS. 


145 


and  Greek  ingredients,  to  say  nothing  of  Etruscan  and 
Phoenician  influences.  We  know  the  difficulty  of  find- 
ing out  in  the  religion  of  the  Greeks  what  is  purely 
home-grown,  and  what  is  taken  over  from  Egypt,  Phoe- 
nicia, it  may  be  from  Scythia  ; or  at  all  events,  slightly 
colored  by  those  foreign  rays  of  thought.  Even  in  the 
religion  of  the  Hebrews,  Babylonian,  Phoenician,  and  at 
a later  time  Persian  influences  have  been  discovered, 
and  the  more  we  advance  toward  modern  times,  the  more 
extensive  becomes  the  mixture  of  thought,  and  the  more 
difficult  the  task  of  assigning  to  each  nation  the  share 
which  it  contributed  to  the  common  intellectual  currency 
of  the  world.  In  India  alone,  and  more  particularly  in 
Yedic  India,  we  see  a plant  entirely  grown  on  native 
soil,  and  entirely  nurtured  by  native  air.  For  this  rea- 
son, because  the  religion  of  the  Yeda  was  so  completely 
guarded  from  all  strange  infections,  it  is  full  of  lessons 
which  the  student  of  religion  could  learn  nowhere  else. 

Now  what  have  the  critics  of  the  Yeda  to  say  against 
this  ? They  say  that  the  Yedic  poems  show  clear  traces 
of  ^Babylonian  influences. 

I must  enter  into  some  details,  because,  small  as  they 
seem,  you  can  see  that  they  involve  very  wide  conse- 
quences. 

There  is  one  verse  in  the  Rig- Yeda,  YIII.  78,  2,* 
which  has  been  translated  as  follows  : “ Oh  Indra,  bring 
to  us  a brilliant  jewel,  a cow,  a horse,  an  ornament,  to- 
gether with  a golden  Mana.”  f 

* A na h bhara  vyiinyanam  gitm  asvam  abhya%anam  Saba,  mana 
hirajiyaya. 

f Grassman  translates,  “Zugleich  mit  goldenem  Geriitli Lud- 
wig, “ Zusammt  mit  goldenem  Zierrath  Zimmer,  “ Und  eine 
Mana  gold.”  The  Petersburg  Dictionary  explains  mani,  by  “ ein 
bestimmtes  Gerath  oder  Gewicht”  (Gold). 


146 


LECTURE  IT. 


N ow  what  is  a golden  Mana  ? The  word  does  not 
occur  again  by  itself,  either  in  the  Yeda  or  anywhere 
else,  and  it  has  been  identified  by  Yedic  scholars  with 
the  Latin  mina,  the  Greek  i-iva,  the  Phoenician  manah 
the  well-known  weight  which  we  actually  pos- 
sess now  among  the  treasures  brought  from  Babylon  and 
Nineveh  to  the  British  Museum. f 

If  this  were  so,  it  would  be  irrefragable  evidence  of  at 
all  events  a commercial  intercourse  between  Babylon 
and  India  at  a very  early  time,  though  it  would  in  no 
way  prove  a real  influence  of  Semitic  on  Indian  thought. 
But  is  it  so  ? If  we  translate  sa&a  mana  hiranyaya  by 
“ with  a mina  of  gold,”  we  must  take  mana  hiranyaya 
as  instrumental  cases.  But  sa&a  never  governs  an  in- 
strumental case.  This  translation  therefore  is  impossi- 
ble, and  although  the  passage  is  difficult,  because  mana 
does  not  occur  again  in  the  Rig- Yeda,  I should  think  we 
might  take  mana  hiranyaya  for  a dual,  and  translate, 
“Give  us  also  two  golden  armlets.”  To  suppose  that 
the  Yedic  poets  should  have  borrowed  this  one  word  and 
this  one  measure  from  the  Babylonians,  would  be  against 
all  the  rules  of  historical  criticism.  The  word  mand 
never  occurs  again  in  the  whole  of  Sanskrit  literature, 
no  other  Babylonian  weight  occurs  again  in  the  whole  of 
Sanskrit  literature,  and  it  is  not  likely  that  a poet  who 
asks  for  a cow  and  a horse,  would  ask  in  the  same  breath 

* According  to  Dr.  Haupt,  Die  Sumerisch-akkadische  Sprache, 
p.  272,  mana  is  an  Akkadian  word. 

» | According  to  the  weights  of  the  lions  and  ducks  preserved  in  the 

British  Museum,  an  Assyrian  mina  was  = 7747  grains.  The  same 
difference  is  still  preserved  to  the  present  day,  as  the  man  of  Shiraz 
and  Bagdad  is  just  double  that  of  Tabraz  and  Bushir,  the  average  of 
the  former  being  14.0  and  that  of  the  latter  only  6.985.  See  Cun- 
ningham, “ Journal  of  the  Asiatic  Society,”  Calcutta,  1881,  p.  163. 


OBJECTIONS. 


147 


for  a foreign  weight  of  gold,  that  is,  for  about  sixty  sov- 
ereigns. 

But  this  is  not  the  only  loan  that  India  has  been  sup- 
posed to  have  negotiated  in  Babylon.  The  twenty-seven 
Nakshatras,  or  the  twenty-seven  constellations,  which 
were  chosen  in  India  as  a kind  of  lunar  Zodiac,  were 
supposed  to  have  come  from  Babylon.  Now  the  Baby- 
lonian Zodiac  was  solar,  and,  in  spite  of  repeated  re- 
searches, no  trace  of  a lunar  Zodiac  has  been  found, 
where  so  many  things  have  been  found,  in  the  cuneiform 
inscriptions.  But  supposing  even  that  a lunar  Zodiac 
had  been  discovered  in  Babylon,  no  one  acquainted  with 
Yedic  literature  and  with  the  ancient  Yedic  ceremonial 
would  easily  allow  himself  to  be  persuaded  that  the  Hin- 
dus had  borrowed  that  simple  division  of  the  sky  from 
the  Babylonians.  It  is  well  known  that  most  of  the 
Yedic  sacrifices  depend  on  the  moon,  far  more  than  on 
the  sun.*  As  the  Psalmist  says,  “ lie  appointed  the 
moon  for  seasons;  the  sun  knoweth  his  going  down,” 
we  read  in  the  Rig-Yeda  X.  85,  18,  in  a verse  addressed 
to  sun  and  moon,  “ They  walk  by  their  own  power,  one 
after  the  other  (or  from  east  to  west),  as  playing  children 
they  go  round  the  sacrifice.  The  one  looks  upon  all 
the  worlds,  the  other  is  born  again  and  again,  determin- 
ing the  seasons. 

“ lie  becomes  new  and  new,  when  he  is  born  ; as  the 
herald  of  the  days,  he  goes  before  the  dawns.  By  his 
approach  he  determines  their  share  for  the  gods,  the 
moon  increases  a long  life.” 

The  moon,  then,  determines  the  seasons,  the  Wtus, 
the  moon  fixes  the  share,  that  is,  the  sacrificial  oblation 


* Preface  to  tlie  fourth  volume  of  my  edition  of  the  Rig-Veda, 


148 


LECTURE  IV. 


for  all  the  gods.  The  seasons  and  the  sacrifices  were  in 
fact  so  intimately  connected  together  in  the  thoughts  of 
the  ancient  Hindus,  that  one  of  the  commonest  names 
for  priest  was  ritv-ig,  literally,  the  season-sacrificer. 

Besides  the  rites  which  have  to  he  performed  every 
day,  such  as  the  five  Mahayay/las,  and  the  Agnihotra  in 
the  morning  and  the  evening,  the  important  sacrifices  in 
Vedic  times  were  the  Full  and  New-moon  sacrifices 
(darsapumamasa)  ; the  Season-sacrifices  (Mturmasya), 
each  season  consisting  of  four  months  ;*  and  the  Half- 
yearly  sacrifices,  at  the  two  solstices.  There  are  other 
sacrifices  (agrayana,  etc.)  to  he  performed  in  autumn 
and  summer,  others  in  winter  and  spring,  whenever  rice 
and  barley  are  ripening,  f 

The  regulation  of  the  seasons,  as  one  of  the  funda- 
mental conditions  of  an  incipient  society,  seems  in  fact 
to  have  been  so  intimately  connected  with  the  worship 
of  the  gods,  as  the  guardians  of  the  seasons  and  the  pro- 
tectors of  law  and  order,  that  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to 
say  whether  in  their  stated  sacrifices  the  maintenance  of 
the  calendar  or  the  maintenance  of  the  worship  of  the 
gods  was  more  prominent  in  the  minds  of  the  old  Yedic 
priests. 

The  twenty -seven  Nakshatras  then  were  clearly  sug- 
gested by  the  moon’s  passage.  Nothing  was  more 
natural  for  the  sake  of  counting  days,  months,  or  seasons 
than  to  observe  the  twenty-seven  places  which  the  moon 
occupied  in  her  passage  from  any  point  of  the  sky  back 
to  the  same  point.  It  was  far  easier  than  to  determine 

* Vaisvadevam  on  the  full-moon  of  Phalguna,  Varu?iapraghasaA  on 
the  full-moon  of  Ashactaa,  Sakamedha/t  on  the  tull-moon  of  Krittika, 
see  Boehtlingk,  Dictionary,  s.  v. 

f See  Vishnu-smriti,  ed.  Jolly  LlX.  4 ; Aryabhata,  Introduction. 

\ See  Preface  to  vol.  iv.  of  Kig-Veda,  p.  li.  (1862). 


OBJECTIONS. 


149 


the  sun’s  position  either  from  day  to  day,  or  from  month 
to  month  ; for  the  stars,  being  hardly  visible  at  the 
actual  rising  and  setting  of  the  sun,  the  idea  of  the  sun’s 
conjunction  with  certain  stars  could  not  suggest  itself  to 
a listless  observer.  The  moon,  on  the  contrary,  pro- 
gressing from  night  to  night,  and  coming  successively  in 
contact  with  certain  stars,  was  like  the  finger  of  a clock, 
moving  round  a circle,  and  coming  in  contact  with  one 
figure  after  another  on  the  dial-plate  of  the  sky.  Nor 
would  the  portion  of  about  one  third  of  a lunation  in 
addition  to  the  twenty-seven  stars  from  new  moon  to 
new  moon,  create  much  confusion  in  the  minds  of  the 
rough-and-ready  reckoners  of  those  early  times.  All 
they  wrere  concerned  with  were  the  twenty-seven  celes- 
tial stations  which,  after  being  once  traced  out  by  the 
moon,  were  fixed,  like  so  many  milestones,  for  deter- 
mining the  course  of  all  the  celestial  travellers  that  could 
be  of  any  interest  for  signs  and  for  seasons,  and  for  days 
and  for  years.  A circle  divided  into  twenty-seven  sec- 
tions, or  any  twenty-seven  poles  planted  in  a circle  at 
equal  distances  round  a house,  would  answer  the  purpose 
of  a primitive  V edic  observatory.  All  that  was  wanted 
to  be  known  was  between  which  pair  of  poles  the  moon, 
or  afterward  the  sun  also,  was  visible  at  their  rising  or 
setting,  the  observer  occupying  the  Same  central  position 
on  every  day. 

Our  notions  of  astronomy  cannot  in  fact  be  too  crude 
and  too  imperfect  if  we  wish  to  understand  the  first  be- 
ginnings in  the  reckoning  of  days  and  seasons  and  years. 
We  cannot  expect  in  those  days  more  than  what  any 
shepherd  would  know  at  present  of  the  sun  and  moon, 
the  stars  and  seasons.  Nor  can  we  expect  any  observa- 
tions of  heavenly  phenomena  unless  they  had  some  bear- 
ing on  the  practical  wants  of  primitive  society. 


150 


LECTURE  IV. 


If  then  we  can  watch  in  India  the  natural,  nay  inevi- 
table, growth  of  the  division  of  the  heaven  into  twenty- 
seven  equal  divisions,  each  division  marked  by  stars, 
which  may  have  been  observed  and  named  long  before 
they  were  used  for  this  new  purpose — if,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  could  hardly  understand  the  growth  and  de- 
velopment of  the  Indian  ceremonial  except  as  determined 
by  a knowledge  of  the  lunar  asterisms,  the  lunar 
months,  and  the  lunar  seasons,  surely  it  would  be  a sense- 
less hypothesis  to  imagine  that  the  Yedic  shepherds  or 
priests  went  to  Babylonia  in  search  of  a knowledge  which 
every  shepherd  might  have  acquired  on  the  banks  of  the 
Indus,  and  that,  after  their  return  from  that  country 
only,  where  a language  was  spoken  which  no  Hindu 
could  understand,  they  set  to  work  to  compose  their 
sacred  hymns  and  arrange  their  simple  ceremonial.  We 
must  never  forget  that  what  is  natural  in  one  place  is 
natural  in  other  places  also,  and  we  may  sum  up  without 
fear  of  serious  contradiction,  that  no  case  has  been  made 
out  in  favor  of  a foreign  origin  of  the  elementary  astro- 
nomical notions  of  the  Hindus  as  found  or  presupposed 
in  the  Yedic  hymns.* 

The  Arabs,  as  is  well  known,  have  twenty-eight  lunar 
stations,  the  Mamil,  and  I can  see  no  reason  why  Mo- 
hammed and  his  Bedouins  in  the  desert  should  not  have 
made  the  same  observation  as  the  Yedic  poets  in  India, 
though  I must  admit  at  the  same  time  that  Colebrooke 
has  brought  forward  very  cogent  arguments  to  prove 
that,  in  their  scientific  employment  at  least,  the  Arabic 
Manzil  were  really  borrowed  from  an  Indian  source,  f 

The  Chinese,  too,  have  their  famous  lunar  stations, 
the  Sieu,  originally  twenty-four  in  number,  and  after- 

* See  Zimmer,  Altindisches  Leben,  pp.  352-357. 

t L.  c.  i>.  lxx. 


OBJECTIONS. 


151 


ward  raised  to  twenty-eight.*  But  here  again  there  is 
no  necessity  whatever  for  admitting,  with  Biot,  Lassen, 
and  others,  that  the  Hindus  went  to  China  to  gain  their 
simplest  elementary  notions  of  lunar  chrononomy.  First 
of  all,  the  Chinese  began  with  twenty-four,  and  raised 
them  to  twenty-eight  ; the  Hindus  began  with  twenty- 
seven,  and  raised  them  to  twenty-eight.  Secondly,  out 
of  these  twenty-eight  asterisms,  there  are  seventeen  only 
which  can  really  he  identified  with  the  Hindu  stars 
(taras).  How  if  a scientific  system  is  borrowed,  it  is  bor- 
rowed complete.  But,  in  our  case,  I see  really  no  pos- 
sible channel  through  which  Chinese  astronomical  knowl- 
edge could  have  been  conducted  to  India  so  early  as 
1000  before  our  era.  In  Chinese  literature  India  is 
never  mentioned  before  the  middle  of  the  second  cen- 
tury before  Christ  ; and  if  the  K inas  in  the  later  San- 
skrit literature  are  meant  for  Chinese,  which  is  doubtful, 
it  is  important  to  observe  that  that  name  never  occurs  in 
Vedic  literature.! 

* Sec  Zimmer,  Altindisches  Leben,  p.  xlvii. 

f In  the  Mahabhiirata  and  elsewhere  the  Ainas  are  mentioned 
among  the  Dasyus  or  non-Aryan  races  in  the  north  and  in  the  east 
of  India.  King  Bhagadatta  is  said  to  have  had  an  army  of  Ainas  and 
Kiratas,  * and  the  Pandavas  are  said  to  reach  the  town  of  the  King  of 
the  Kulindas,  after  having  passed  through  the  countries  of  Ainas, 
Tukharas,  and  Daradas.  All  this  is  as  vague  as  ethnological  indi- 
cations generally  are  in  the  late  epic  poetry  of  India.  The  only  pos- 
sibly real  element  is  that  Kirata  and  Aina  soldiers  are  called  kunfcana, 
gold  or  yellow  colored, ■)•  and  compared  to  a forest  of  Ifareikaras, 
•which  were  trees  with  yellow  flowers.!  In  Mahabh.  VI.  9,  v.  373, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  344,  the  Ainas  occur  in  company  with  Kambo^as  and 
Yavanas,  which  again  conveys  nothing  definite. 

Chinese  scholars  tell  us  that  the  name  of  China  is  of  modem 

* Lassen,  i.  p.  1029  ; Mahabh.  III.  117,  v.  12,350;  vol.  i.  p.  619. 
t Mahabh.  V.  18,  v.  584  ; vol.  ii.  p.  106. 
t See  Vaiaspatya  s.  v.  ; KaaA'it  KarnikaragauraA. 


152 


LECTURE  IV. 


"When  therefore  the  impossibility  of  so  early  a com- 
munication between  China  and  India  had  at  last  been 
recognized,  a new  theory  was  formed,  namely,  “ that  the 
knowledge  of  Chinese  astronomy  was  not  imported 
straight  from  China  to  India,  but  was  carried,  together 
with  the  Chinese  system  of  division  of  the  heavens  into 
twenty-eight  mansions,  into  Western  Asia,  at  a period 
not  much  later  than  1100  b.c.,  and  was  then  adopted  by 
some  Western  people,  either  Semitic  or  Iranian.  In 
their  hands  it  was  supposed  to  have  received  a new 
form,  such  as  adapted  it  to  a ruder  and  less  scientific 
method  of  observation,  the  limiting  stars  of  the  mansions 
being  converted  into  zodiacal  groups  or  constellations, 
and  in  some  instances  altered  in  position,  so  as  to  be 
brought  nearer  to  the  general  planetary  path  of  the 
ecliptic.  In  this  changed  form,  having  become  a means 
of  roughly  determining  and  describing  the  places  and 
movements  of  the  planets,  it  was  believed  to  have  passed 
into  the  keeping  of  the  Hindus,  very  probably  along 
with  the  first  knowledge  of  the  planets  themselves,  and 
entered  upon  an  independent  career  of  history  in  India. 
It  still  maintained  itself  in  its  old  seat,  leaving  its  traces 
later  in  the  Bundaliash  ; and  made  its  way  so  far  west- 
ward as  finally  to  become  known  and  adopted  by  the 
Arabs.”  With  due  respect  for  the  astronomical  knowl- 
edge of  those  who  hold  this  view,  all  1 can  say  is  that 


origin,  and  only  dates  from  the  Thsin  dynasty  or  from  the  famous 
Emperor  Shi  hoang-ti,  247  b.c.  But  the  name  itself,  though  in  a more 
restricted  sense,  occurs  in  earlier  documents,  and  may,  as  Lassen 
thinks,*  have  become  kno'wn  to  the  Western  neighbors  of  China.  It 
is  certainly  strange  that  'the  Sinim.  too,  mentioned  in  Isaiah  xlix.  12, 
have  been  taken  by  the  old  commentators  for  people  of  China,  visit- 
ing Babylon  as  merchants  and  travellers. 


* Lassen,  vol.  i.  p.  1029,  n.  2, 


OBJECTIONS. 


153 


this  is  a novel,  and  nothing  bnt  a novel,  without  any 
facts  to  support  it,  and  that  the  few  facts  which  are 
known  to  ns  do  not  enable  a careful  reasoner  to  go  be- 
yond the  conclusions  stated  many  years  ago  by  Cole- 
brooke,  that  the  “ Hindus  had  undoubtedly  made  some 
progress  at  an  early  period  in  the  astronomy  cultivated 
by  them  for  the  regulation  ot  time.  Their  calendar, 
both  civil  and  religious,  was  governed  chiefly,  not  ex- 
clusively, by  the  moon  and  the  sun  ; and  the  motions  of 
these  luminaries  were  carefully  observed  by  them,  and 
with  such  success  that  their  determination  of  the  moon’s 
synodical  revolution,  which  was  what  they  were  princi- 
pally concerned  with,  is  a much  more  correct  one  than 
the  Greeks  ever  achieved.  They  had  a division  of  the 
ecliptic  into  twenty-seven  and  twenty-eight  parts,  sug- 
gested evidently  by  the  moon’s  period  in  days,  and 
seemingly  their  own  ; it  was  certainly  borrowed  by  the 
Arabians.” 

There  is  one  more  argument  which  has  been  adduced 
in  support  of  a Babylonian,  or,  at  all  events,  a Semitic 
influence  to  be  discovered  in  Yedic  literature  which  we 
must  shortly  examine.  It  refers  to  the  story  of  the 
Deluge. 

That  story,  as  you  know,  has  been  traced  in  the  tra- 
ditions of  many  races,  which  conkl  not  w*ell  have  bor- 
rowed it  from  one  another  ; and  it  was  rather  a surprise 
that  no  allusion  even  to  a local  deluge  should  occur  in 
any  of  the  Vedic  hymns,  particularly  as  very  elaborate 
accounts  of  different  kinds  of  deluges  are  found  in  the 
later  Epic  poems,  and  in  the  still  later  Purawas,  and 
form  in  fact  a very  familiar  subject  in  the  religious  tra- 
ditions of  the  people  of  India. 

Three  of  the  Avatdras  or  incarnations  of  Vislmu  are 
connected  with  a deluge,  that  of  the  Fish , that  of  the 


154 


LECTURE  IV. 


Tortoise , and  that  of  the  Boar , Vishnu  in  each  case  res- 
cuing mankind  from  destruction  by  water,  by  assuming 
the  form  of  a fish,  or  a tortoise,  or  a boar. 

This  being  so,  it  seemed  a very  natural  conclusion  to 
make  that,  as  there  was  no  mention  of  a deluge  in  the 
most  ancient  literature  of  India,  that  legend  had  pene- 
trated into  India  from  without  at  a later  time. 

When,  however,  the  Vedic  literature  became  more 
generally  known,  stories  of  a deluge  were  discovered,  if 
not  in  the  hymns,  at  least  in  the  prose  writings,  belong- 
ing to  the  second  period,  commonly  called  the  Brahmana 
period.  Not  only  the  story  of  Manu  and  the  Fish,  but 
the  stories  of  the  Tortoise  and  of  the  Boar  also,  were 
met  with  there  in  a more  or  less  complete  form,  and 
with  this  discovery  the  idea  of  a foreign  importation  lost 
much  of  its  plausibility.  I shall  read  you  at  least  one  of 
these  accounts  of  a Deluge  which  is  found  in  the  /Sata- 
patlia  Brahmana,  and  you  can  then  judge  for  yourselves 
whether  the  similarities  between  it  and  the  account  in 
Genesis  are  really  such  as  to  require,  nay  as  to  admit,  the 
hypothesis  that  the  Hindus  borrowed  their  account  of 
the  Deluge  from  their  nearest  Semitic  neighbors. 

We  read  in  the  Natapatha  Brahmana  I.  8,  1 : 

“ In  the  morning  they  brought  water  to  Manu  for 
washing,  as  they  bring  it  even  now  for  washing  our 
hands. 

“ While  he  was  thus  washing,  a fish  came  into  his 
hands. 

“ 2.  The  fish  spoke  this  word  to  Manu  : ‘ Keep  me, 
and  I shall  save  thee.  ’ 

“ Mann  said  : ‘ From  what  wilt  thou  save  me  ? ’ 

“ The  fish  said  : ‘ A flood  will  carry  away  all  these 
creatures,  and  I shall  save  thee  from  it.’ 

“ Manu  said  : ‘ IIow  canst  thou  be  kept  ? ’ 


OBJECTIONS. 


155 


“ 3.  The  fish  said  : ‘ So  long  as  we  are  small,  there  is 
much  destruction  for  us,  for  fish  swallows  lish.  Keep 
me  therefore  first  in  a jar.  When  I outgrow  that,  dig 
a hole  and  keep  me  in  it.  When  I outgrow  that,  take 
me  to  the  sea,  and  I shall  then  be  beyond  the  reach  of 
destruction.  ’ 

“ 4.  lie  became  soon  a large  fish  (yAasha),  for  such  a 
fish  grows  largest.  The  fish  said  : ‘ In  such  and  such  a 
year  the  flood  will  come.  Therefore  when  thou  hast 
built  a ship,  thou  shalt  meditate  on  me.  And  when  the 
flood  has  risen,  thou  shalt  enter  into  the  ship,  and  1 will 
save  thee  from  the  flood.’ 

“ 5.  Having  thus  kept  the  fish,  M/mu  took  him  to  the 
sea.  Then  in  the  same  year  which  the  fish  had  pointed 
out,  Manu,  having  built  the  ship,  meditated  on  the  fish. 
And  when  the  flood  had  risen,  Manu  entered  into  the 
ship.  Then  the  fish  swam  toward  him,  and  Manu  fast- 
ened the  rope  of  the  ship  to  the  fish’s  horn,  and  he  thus 
hastened  toward  * the  Northern  Mountain. 

“ 6.  The  fish  said  : ‘ I have  saved  thee  ; bind  the  ship 
to  a tree.  May  the  water  not  cut  thee  off,  while  thou 
art  on  the  mountain.  As  the  water  subsides,  do  thou 
gradually  slide  down  with  it.’  Manu  then  slid  down 
gradually  with  the  water,  and  therefore  this  is  called 
‘ the  Slope  of  Manu’  on  the  Northern  Mountain.  Now 
the  flood  had  carried  away  all  these  creatures,  and  thus 
Manu  was  left  there  alone. 

“ 7.  Then  Manu  went  about  singing  praises  and  toil- 
ing, wishing  for  offspring.  And  he  sacrificed  there  also 
with  a Paka-sacrifice.  He  poured  clarified  butter, 
thickened  milk,  whey,  and  curds  in  the  water  as  a liba- 

* I prefer  now  the  reading  of  the  Kanva-sSkha,  abhidudrava, 
instead  of  atidudrava  or  adhidudrava  of  the  other  mss.  See 
Weber,  Ind.  Streifen,  i.  p.  11. 


156 


LECTURE  IV. 


tion.  In  one  year  a woman  arose  from  it.  She  came 
forth  as  if  dripping,  and  clarified  butter  gathered  on  her 
step.  Mitra  and  Vanma  came  to  meet  her. 

“ 8.  They  said  to  her  : ‘ Who  art  thou  ? ’ She  said  : 
‘ The  daughter  of  Mann.’  They  rejoined  : ‘ Say  that 
thou  art  ours.’  ‘No,’  she  said,  ‘ he  who  has  begotten 
me,  his  I am.’ 

“ Then  they  wished  her  to  he  their  sister,  and  she  half 
agreed  and  half  did  not  agree,  but  went  away,  and  came 
to  Manu. 

“ 9.  Manu  said  to  her  : ‘ Who  art  thou  ? ’ She  said  : 
‘ I am  thy  daughter.  ’ ‘ IIow,  lady,  art  thou  my  daugh- 

ter ? ’ he  asked. 

“ She  replied  : ‘ The  libations  which  thou  hast  poured 
into  the  water,  clarified  butter,  thickened  milk,  whey 
and  curds,  by  them  thou  hast  begotten  me.  I am  a ben- 
ediction—perform  (me)  this  benediction  at  the  sacrifices. 
If  thou  perform  (me)  it  at  the  sacrifice,  thou  wfilt  be  rich 
in  offspring  and  cattle.  And  whatever  blessing  thou 
wrilt  ask  by  me,  will  always  accrue  to  thee.’  He  there- 
fore performed  that  benediction  in  the  middle  of  the 
sacrifice,  for  the  middle  of  the  sacrifice  is  that  which 
comes  between  the  introductory  and  the  final  offerings. 

“10.  Then  Manu  went  about  ■with  her,  singing 
praises  and  toiling,  wishing  for  offspring.  And  with  her 
he  begat  that  offspring  which  is  called  the  offspring  of 
Manu  ; and  whatever  blessing  he  asked  with  her,  always 
accrued  to  him.  She  is  indeed  Ie?a,  and  whosoever, 
knowing  this,  goes  about  (sacrifices)  with  Ma,  begets  the 
same  offspring  which  Manu  begat,  and  whatever  blessing 
lie  asks  wfith  her,  always  accrues  to  him.  ” 

This,  no  doubt,  is  the  account  of  a deluge,  and  Manu 
acts  in  some  respects  the  same  part  which  is  assigned  to 
Noah  in  the  Old  Testament.  But  if  there  are  similari- 


OBJECTIONS. 


157 


ties,  think  of  the  dissimilarities,  and  how  they  are  to  be 
explained.  It  is  quite  clear  that,  if  this  story  was  bor- 
rowed from  a Semitic  source,  it  was  not  borrowed  from 
the  Old  Testament,  for  in  that  case  it  would  really  seem 
impossible  to  account  for  the  differences  between  the 
two  stories.  That  it  may  have  been  borrowed  * from  some 
unknown  Semitic  source  cannot,  of  course,  be  disproved, 
because  no  tangible  proof  has  ever  been  produced  that 
would  admit  of  being  disproved.  But  if  it  were,  it  would 
be  the  only  Semitic  loan  in  ancient  Sanskrit  literature — • 
and  that  alone  ought  to  make  us  pause  ! 

The  story  of  the  boar  and  the  tortoise  too,  can  be 
traced  back  to  the  Vedic  literature.  For  we  read  in  the 
Taittiriya  Samhita  : f 

“ At  first  this  was  water,  fluid.  Prayapati,  the  lord 
of  creatures,  having  become  wind,  moved  on  it.  He 
saw  this  earth,  and  becoming  a boar,  he  took  it  up.  Be- 
coming Visvakarman,  the  maker  of  all  things,  he  cleaned 
it.  It  spread  and  became  the  widespread  Earth,  and 
this  is  why  the  Earth  is  called  IVffhivi,  the  wide- 
spread. ” 

And  we  find  in  the  xSatapatha  Brahmana  \ the  follow- 
ing slight  allusion  at  least  to  the  tortoise  myth  : 

“ Prayapati,  assuming  the  form  of  a tortoise  (Kurina), 
brought  forth  all  creatures.  In  so  far  as  he  brought 
them  forth,  he  made  them  (akarot),  and  because  he 
made  them  he  was  (called)  tortoise  (Kurma).  A tortoise 
is  (called)  Kasyapa,  and  therefore  all  creatures  are  called 


* It  is  not  necessary  to  establish  literary  borrowing  ; for  on  the 
theory  of  Bible  inspiration  and  trustworthiness  we  must  assume  that 
the  Aryans  as  well  as  the  Semites  were  saved  in  the  ark.  The  story 
of  a flood  supports  the  story  of  the  flood  to  a certain  extent. — Am.  Pubs. 
f VII.  1,  5,  1 seq.  ; Muir,  i.  p.  52  ; Colebrooke,  Essays,  i.  75. 
t VII.  5,  1,  5 ; Muir,  “Original  Sanskrit  Texts,”  i.  p.  54. 


158 


LECTURE  IV. 


Kasyapa,  tortoise-like.  He  who  was  this  tortoise  (Kurina) 
was  really  Aditya  (the  sun).  ” 

One  other  allusion  to  something  like  a deluge,*  im- 
portant chiefly  on  account  of  the  name  of  Manu  occur- 
ring in  it,  has  been  pointed  out  in  the  Kanaka  (XI.  2), 
where  this  short  sentence  occurs  : “ The  waters  cleaned 
this,  Manu  alone  remained.” 

All  this  shows  that  ideas  of  a deluge,  that  is,  of  a sub- 
mersion of  the  earth  by  water  and  of  its  rescue  through 
divine  aid,  were  not  altogether  unknown  in  the  early 
traditions  of  India,  while  in  later  times  they  were  em- 
bodied in  several  of  the  Avataras  of  Vi  si  mu. 

When  we  examine  the  numerous  accounts  of  a deluge 
among  different  nations  in  almost  every  part  of  the 
world,  we  can  easily  perceive  that  they  do  not  refer  to 
one  single  historical  event,  but  to  a natural  phenomenon 
repeated  every  year,  namely,  the  deluge  or  flood  of  the 
rainy  season  or  the  winter,  f 

This  is  nowhere  clearer  than  in  Babylon.  Sir  Henry 
Rawlinson  was  the  first  to  point  out  that  the  twelve 
cantos  of  the  poem  of  Izdubar  or  Nimrod  refer  to  the 
twelve  months  of  the  year  and  the  twelve  representative 
signs  of  the  Zodiac.  Dr.  Haupt  afterward  pointed  out 
that  Babani,  the  wise  bull-man  in  the  second  canto,  corre- 
sponds to  the  second  month,  Ijjar,  April-May,  repre- 
sented in  the  Zodiac  by  the  bull  ; that  the  union 
between  Babani  and  Nimrod  in  the  third  canto  corre- 
sponds to  the  third  month,  Sivan,  May- June,  represented 
in  the  Zodiac  by  the  twins  ; that  the  sickness  of  Nimrod 
in  the  seventh  canto  corresponds  to  the  seventh  month, 
Tishri,  September-October,  when  the  sun  begins  to 
wane  ; and  that  the  flood  in  the  eleventh  canto  corre- 

* Weber,  “Indisclie  Streifen,”  i.  p.  11. 

1 See  Lecture  V.  p.  172. 


OBJECTIONS. 


159 


sponds  to  the  eleventh  month,  Shabatfu,  dedicated  to  the 
6torin-god  Rimmon,*  represented  in  the  Zodiac  by  the 
waterman,  f 

If  that  is  so,  we  have  surely  a right  to  claim  the  same 
natural  origin  for  the  story  of  the  Deluge  in  India 
which  we  are  bound  to  admit  in  other  countries.  And 
even  if  it  could  be  proved  that  in  the  form  in  which 
these  legends  have  reached  us  in  India  they  show  traces 
of  foreign  influences,:}:  the  fact  would  still  remain  that 
such  influences  have  been  perceived  in  comparatively 
modern  treatises  only,  and  not  in  the  ancient  hymns  of 
the  Rig- Veda. 

Other  conjectures  have  been  made  with  even  less  foun- 
dation than  that  which  would  place  the  ancient  poets  of 
India  under  the  influence  of  Babylon.  China  has  been 
appealed  to,  nay  even  Persia,  Parthia,  and  Bactria, 
countries  beyond  the  reach  of  India  at  that  early  time  of 
which  we  are  here  speaking,  and  probably  not  even  then 
consolidated  into  independent  nations  or  kingdoms.  I 
only  wonder  that  traces  of  the  lost  Jewish  tribes  have 
not  been  discovered  in  the  Vedas,  considering  that 
Afghanistan  has  so  often  been  pointed  out  as  one  of  their 
favorite  retreats. 

After  having  thus  carefully  examined  all  the  traces  of 
supposed  foreign  influences  that  have  been  brought  for- 
ward by  various  scholars,  I think  I may  say  that  there 
really  is  no  trace  whatever  of  any  foreign  influence  in 
the  language,  the  religion,  or  the  ceremonial  of  the 
ancient  Vedic  literature  of  India.  As  it  stands  before 

* More  accurately  Itamanu,  the  Vul  or  storm-god  of  George  Smith  ; 
and  the  god  of  the  Mind  and  higher  intellect  at  Babylon.  His  arcane 
name  is  said  to  have  been  Yav,  liY  or  ’I do. — A.  W. 

f See  Haupt,  “ Der  Keilinschriftliche  Sintfluthbericht,  1881,”  p.  10. 

f SeeM.  M.,  “ Genesis  and  Avesta”  (German  translation),  i.  p.  148. 


160 


LECTURE  IV. 


us  now,  so  it  lias  grown  up,  protected  by  the  mountain 
ramparts  in  the  north,  the  Indus  and  the  Desert  in  the 
west,  the  Indus  or  what  was  called  the  sea  in  the  south, 
and  the  Ganges  in  the  east.  It  presents  us  with  a 
home-grown  poetry  and  a home-grown  religion  ; and 
history  has  preserved  to  us  at  least  this  one  relic,  in 
order  to  teach  us  what  the  human  mind  can  achieve  if 
left  to  itself,  surrounded  by  a scenery  and  by  conditions 
of  life  that  might  have  made  man’s  life  on  earth  a para- 
dise, if  man  did  not  possess  the  strange  art  of  turning 
even  a paradise  into  a place  of  misery.* 

* No  one  is  more  competent  than  the  learned  author  to  give  a ver- 
dict on  all  the  evidence  which  has  been  gathered  ; but  we  are  only  at 
the  beginning  of  research  into  the  intercourse  of  mankind  in  remote 
times,  and  much  that  was  once  thought  home-grown  has  already  been 
traced  to  distant  points.  It  is  in  the  general  line  of  progress  in  re- 
search that  more  evidence  may  be  expected  to  connect  Vedic  thought 
with  other  cultures. — Am.  Pubs. 


LECTURE  Y. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  YEDA. 

Although  there  is  hardly  any  department  of  learning 
which  has  not  received  new  light  and  new  life  from  the 
ancient  literature  of  India,  yet  nowhere  is  the  light  that 
comes  to  us  from  India  so  important,  so  novel,  and  so 
rich  as  in  the  study  of  religion  and  mythology.  It  is  to 
this  subject  therefore  that  I mean  to  devote  the  remain- 
ing lectures  of  this  course.  I do  so,  partly  because  I 
feel  myself  most  at  home  in  that  ancient  world  of  Vedie 
literature  in  which  the  germs  of  Aryan  religion  have  to 
be  studied,  partly  because  I believe  that  for  a proper 
understanding  of  the  deepest  convictions,  or,  if  you 
like,  the  strongest  prejudices  of  the  modern  Hindus, 
nothing  is  so  useful  as  a knowledge  of  the  Y eda.  It  is 
perfectly  true  that  nothing  would  give  a falser  impression 
of  the  actual  Brahmanical  religion  than  the  ancient 
Yedic  literature,  supposing  we  were  to  imagine  that 
three  thousand  years  could  have  passed  over  India  with- 
out producing  any  change.  Such  a mistake  would  be 
nearly  as  absurd  as  to  deny  any  difference  between  the 
Yedic  Sanskrit  and  the  spoken  Bengali.  But  no  one 
will  gain  a schoiarlike  knowledge  or  a true  insight  into 
the  secret  springs  of  Bengali  who  is  ignorant  of  the 
grammar  of  Sanskrit  ; and  no  one  will  ever  understand 
the  present  religious,  philosophical,  legal,  and  social 
opinions  of  the  Hindus  who  is  unable  to  trace  them  back 
to  their  true  sources  in  the  Yeda. 


162 


LECTURE  V. 


I still  remember  how,  many  years  ago,  when  I began 
to  publish  for  the  first  time  the  text  and  the  commen- 
tary of  the  Rig- Veda,  it  was  argued  by  a certain,  per- 
haps not  quite  disinterested  party,  that  the  Veda  was 
perfectly  useless  ; that  no  man  in  India,  however  learned, 
could  read  it,  and  that  it  was  of  no  use  either  for  mis- 
sionaries or  for  any  one  else  who  wished  to  study  and  to 
influence  the  native  mind.  It  was  said  that  we  ought  to 
study  the  later  Sanskrit,  the  Laws  of  Mann,  the  epic 
poems,  and,  more  particularly,  the  Purawas.  The  Veda 
might  do  very  well  for  German  students,  but  not  for 
Englishmen. 

There  was  no  excuse  for  such  ignorant  assertions  even 
thirty  years  ago,  for  in  these  very  books,  in  the  Laws  of 
Manu,  in  the  Mahabharata,  and  in  the  Purawas,  the  V eda 
is  everywhere  proclaimed  as  the  highest  authority  in 
all  matters  of  religion.*  “ A Brahman,”  says  Manu, 
“ unlearned  in  holy  writ,  is  extinguished  in  an  instant 
like  dry  grass  on  fire.”  “ A twice-born  man  (that  is,  a 
Brahmana,  a Kshatriya,  and  a Vaisva)  not  having  studied 
the  Veda,  soon  falls,  even  when  living,  to  the  condition 
of  a Audra,  and  his  descendants  after  him.” 

Iiow  far  this  license  of  ignorant  assertion  may  be  ear- 
ned is  shown  by  the  same  authorities  who  denied  the 
importance  of  the  Veda  for  a historical  study  of  Indian 
thought,  boldly  charging  those  wily  priests,  the  Brah- 
mans, with  having  withheld  their  sacred  literature  from 
any  but  their  own  caste.  How,  so  far  from  withholding 
it,  the  Brahmans  have  always  been  striving,  and  often 
striving  in  vain,  to  make  the  study  of  their  sacred  litera- 
ture obligatory  on  all  castes  except  the  Audras,  and  the 
passages  just  quoted  from  Manu  show  what  penalties 
were  threatened  if  children  of  the  second  and  third 


* "Wilson,  Lectures,  p.  9. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  VEDA. 


163 


castes,  tlie  Kshatriyas  and  Vaisyas,  were  not  instructed 
in  the  sacred  literature  of  the  Brahmans. 

At  present  the  Brahmans  themselves  have  spoken,  and 
the  reception  they  have  accorded  to  my  edition  of  the 
Big-  Veda*  and  its  native  commentary,  the  zeal  with 
which  they  have  themselves  taken  up  the  study  of  Vedic 
literature,  and  the  earnestness  with  which  different  sects 
are  still  discussing  the  proper  use  that  should  be  made  of 
their  ancient  religious  writings,  show  abundantly  that  a 
Sanskrit  scholar  ignorant  of,  or,  1 should  rather  say,  de- 
termined to  ignore  the  Veda,  would  be  not  much  better 
than  a Hebrew  scholar  ignorant  of  the  Old  Testament. 

I shall  now  proceed  to  give  you  some  characteristic 
specimens  of  the  religion  and  poetry  of  the  Big- Veda. 
They  can  only  be  few,  and  as  there  is  nothing  like  sys- 
tem or  unity  of  plan  in  that  collection  of  1017  hymns, 
which  we  call  the  Samhita  of  the  Big- Veda,  I cannot 
promise  that  they  will  give  you  a complete  panoramic 
view  of  that  intellectual  world  in  which  our  Vedic 
ancestors  passed  their  life  on  earth. 

I could  not  even  answer  the  question,  if  you  were  to 
ask  it  whether  the  religion  of  the  Veda  was  polytheistic 

* As  it  has  been  donbted,  and  even  denied,  that  the  publication, 
of  the  Eig-Veda  and  its  native  commentary  has  had  some  important 
bearing  on  the  resuscitation  of  the  religious  life  of  India,  I feel  bound  _ 
to  give  at  least  one  from  the  many  testimonials  which  I have 
received  from  India.  It  comes  from  the  Adi  Brahma  Samaj, 
founded  by  Ram  Mohun  Roy,  and  now  represented  by  its  three 
branches,  the  Adi  Brahma  Samaj,  the  Brahma  Samaj  of  India,  and 
the  Sadharano  Brahma  Samaj.  “ The  Committee  of  the  Adi  Brahma 
Samaj  beg  to  offer  you  their  hearty  congratulations  on  the  com- 
pletion of  the  gigantic  task  which  has  occupied  you  for  the  last 
quarter  of  a century.  By  publishing  the  Rig-Veda  at  a time  when 
Vedic  learning  has  by  some  sad  fatality  become  almost  extinct  in 
the  land  of  its  birth,  you  have  conferred  a boon  upon  us  Hindus, 
for  which  we  cannot  but  be  eternally  grateful.” 


164 


LECTURE  T. 


or  monotheistic.  Monotheistic,  in  the  usual  sense  of 
that  word,  it  is  decidedly  not,  though  there  are  hymns 
that  assert  the  unity  of  the  Divine  as  fearlessly  as  any 
passage  of  the  Old  Testament,  or  the  Kew  Testament, 
or  the  Koran.  Thus  one  poet  says  (Kig- Veda  I.  164,  46)  : 
“ That  which  is  one , sages  name  it  in  various  ways — they 
call  it  Agni,  Yama,  Matarisvan.  ” 

Another  poet  says  : “ The  wise  poets  represent  by 
their  words  Him  who  is  one  with  beautiful  wings,  in 
many  ways.”* 

And  again  we  hear  of  a being  called  Hiran^agarbha, 
the  golden  germ  (whatever  the  original  of  that  name  may 
have  been),  of  whom  the  poet  says  : f “In  the  beginning 
there  arose  Hirawyagarbha  ; he  was  the  one  born  lord  of 
all  this.  He  established  the  earth  and  this  sky.  Who 
is  the  god  to  whom  we  shall  offer  our  sacrifice  ?”  That 
Ilirawyagarbha,  the  poet  says,  “ is  alone  God  above  all 
gods”  (yaA  deveshu  adhi  devaA  ekaA  asit) — an  assertion 
of  the  unity  of  the  Divine  which  could  hardly  be  ex- 
ceeded in  strength  by  any  passage  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. 

But  by  the  side  of  such  passages,  which  are  few  in 
number,  there  are  thousands  in  which  ever  so  many 
divine  beings  are  praised  and  prayed  to.  Even  their 
number  is  sometimes  given  as  “thrice  eleven”;}:  or 
thirty-three,  and  one  poet  assigns  eleven  gods  to  the 
sky,  eleven  to  the  earth,  and  eleven  to  the  waters, § the 
waters  here  intended  being  those  of  the  atmosphere  and 
the  clouds.  These  thirty-three  gods  have  even  wives 
apportioned  to  them,|  though  few  of  these  only  have  as 
yet  attained  to  the  honor  of  a name.^ 

* Eig-Veda  X.  114,  5.  \ Eig-Veda  X.  121.  £ Muir,  iv.  9. 

§ Eig-Veda  I.  139,  11.  | Eig-Veda  III.  6,  9. 

T The  following  names  of  Devapatnis  or  wives  of  the  gods  are 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  VEDA. 


165 


These  thirty-tliree  gods,  however,  by  no  means  in- 
clude all  the  Yedic  gods,  for  such  important  deities  as 
Agni,  the  tire,  Soma,  the  rain,  the  Maruts  or  Storm- 
gods,  the  Asvins,  the  gods  of  Morning  and  Evening,  the 
Waters,  the  Dawn,  the  Sun  are  mentioned  separately  ; 
and  there  are  not  wanting  passages  in  which  the  poet  is 
carried  away  into  exaggerations,  till  he  proclaims  the 
number  of  his  gods  to  be,  not  only  thirty -three,  but 
three  thousand  three  hundred  and  thirty-nine.* 

If  therefore  there  must  be  a name  for  the  religion  of 
the  Rig- Veda,  polytheism  would  seem  at  first  sight  the 
most  appropriate.  Polytheism,  however,  has  assumed 
with  us  a meaning  which  renders  it  totally  inapplicable 
to  the  Vedic  religion. 

Our  ideas  of  polytheism  being  chiefly  derived  from 
Greece  and  Rome,  we  understand  by  it  a certain  more 
or  less  organized  system  of  gods,  different  in  power  and 
rank,  and  all  subordinate  to  a supreme  God,  a Zeus  or 
Jupiter.  The  Vedic  polytheism  differs  from  the  Greek 
and  Roman  polytheism,  and,  I may  add,  likewise  from 
the  polytheism  of  the  Ural-Altaic,  the  Polynesian,  the 
American,  and  most  of  the  African  races,  in  the  same 
manner  as  a confederacy  of  village  communities  differs 
from  a monarchy.  There  are  traces  of  an  earlier  stage 
of  village-community  life  to  be  discovered  in  the  later 
republican  and  monarchical  constitutions,  and  in  the  same 
manner  nothing  can  be  clearer,  particularly  in  Greece, 
than  that  the  monarchy  of  Zeus  was  preceded  by  what 


given  in  the  Vaitana  Sutra  XV.  3 (ed.  Garbe)  : Prithivi,  the  wife 
of  Agni,  Ya k of  Vata,  Sena  of  Indra,  Dhena  of  Brihaspati,  Pathya 
of  Pushan,  Gayatri  of  Vasu,  Trislhubh  of  Rudra,  Gagati  of  Aditya, 
Anushhibh  of  Mitra,  Vi  ray  of  Vanina,  Pankti  of  Vishnu,  Dikslia  of 
Soma. 

* Rig-Veda  III.  9,  9. 


166 


LECTURE  V. 


may  be  called  the  septarcliy  of  several  of  the  great  gods 
of  Greece.  The  same  remark  applies  to  the  mythology 
of  the  Teutonic  nations  also.*  In  the  Veda,  however, 
the  gods  worshipped  as  supreme  by  each  sept  stand  still 
side  by  side.  No  one  is  first  always,  no  one  is  last 
ah.  ays.  Even  gods  of  a decidedly  inferior  and  limited 
character  assume  occasionally  in  the  eyes  of  a devoted 
poet  a supreme  place  above  all  other  gods.f  It  was 
necessary,  therefore,  for  the  purpose  of  accurate  reason- 
ing, to  have  a name,  different  from  polytheism , to  sig- 
nify this  worship  of  single  gods,  each  occupying  for  a 
time  a supreme  position,  and  I proposed  for  it  the  name 
of  Kathenotheism , that  is,  a worship  of  one  god  after 
another,  or  of  Ilenotheism,  the  worship  of  single  gods. 
This  shorter  name  of  Ilenotheism  has  found  more  gen- 
eral acceptance,  as  conveying  more  definitely  the  oppo- 
sition between  2Ionotheism , the  worship  of  one  only 
God,  and  Ilenotheism , the  worship  of  single  gods  ; and, 
if  but  properly  defined,  it  will  answer  its  purpose  very 
well.  However,  in  researches  of  this  kind  we  cannot  be 
too  much  on  our  guard  against  technical  terms.  They 
are  inevitable,  I know  ; but  they  are  almost  always  mis- 
leading. There  is,  for  instance,  a hymn  addressed  to 


* Grimm  showed  that  Tliorr  is  sometimes  the  supreme  god, 
while  at  other  times  he  is  the  son  of  Odinn.  This,  as  Professor 
Zimmer  truly  remarks,  need  not  he  regarded  as  the  result  of  a revo- 
lution, or  even  of  gradual  decay,  as  in  the  case  of  Dvaus  and  Tyr, 
but  simply  as  inherent  in  the  character  of  a nascent  polytheism. 
See  Zeitschrift  fur  D.  A.,  vol.  xii.  p.  174. 

j “Among  not  yet  civilized  races  pray ejs  are  addressed  to  a god 
with  a special  object,  and  to  that  god  who  is  supposed  to  be  most 
powerful  in  a special  domain.  He  becomes  for  the  moment  the 
highest  god  to  whom  all  others  must  give  place.  He  may  be 
invoked  as  the  highest  and  the  only  god,  without  any  slight  being 
intended  for  the  other  gods.” — Zimmer,  1.  c.  p.  175. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  VEDA. 


167 


the  Indus  and  the  rivers  that  fall  into  it,  of  which  I 
hope  to  read  you  a translation,  because  it  determines 
very  accurately  the  geographical  scene  on  which  the 
poets  of  the  Veda  passed  their  life.  Now  native 
scholars  call  these  rivers  devatas  or  deities,  and  Euro- 
pean translators  too  speak  of  them  as  gods  and  god- 
desses. But  in  the  language  used  by  the  poet  with  re- 
gard to  the  Indus  and  the  other  rivers,  there  is  nothing 
to  justify  us  in  saying  that  he  considered  these  rivers  as 
gods  and  goddesses , unless  we  mean  by  gods  and  god- 
desses something  very  different  from  what  the  Greeks 
called  River-gods  and  River-goddesses,  Nymphs,  Naja- 
des,  or  even  Muses. 

And  what  applies  to  these  rivers  applies  more  or  less 
to  all  the  objects  of  Vedic  worship.  They  all  are  still 
oscillating  between  what  is  seen  by  the  senses,  what  is 
created  by  fancy,  and  what  is  postulated  by  the  under- 
standing ; they  are  things,  persons,  causes,  according  to 
the  varying  disposition  of  the  poets  ; and  if  we  call  them 
gods  or  goddesses,  we  must  remember  the  remark  of  ail 
ancient  native  theologian,  who  reminds  us  that  by 
devata  or  .deity  he  means  no  more  than  the  object  cele- 
brated in  a hymn,  while  Ii  i s h i or  seer  means  no  more 
than  the  subject  or  the  author  of  a hymn.  t 

It  is  difficult  to  treat  of  the  so-called  gods  celebrated 
in  the  Veda  according  to  any  system,  for  the  simple 
reason  that  the  concepts  of  these  gods  and  the  hymns 
addressed  to  them  sprang  up  spontaneously  and  without 
any  pre-established  plan.  It  is  best  perhaps  for  our 
purpose  to  follow  an  ancient  Brahmanical  writer,  who  is 
supposed  to  have  lived  about  100  b.c.  He  tells  us  of 
students  of  the  Veda,  before  his  time,  who  admitted  three 
deities  only,  viz. , A g n i or  fire,  whose  place  is  on  the 
earth  ; V a y u or  I n d r a,  the  wind  and  the  god  of  the 


168 


LECTURE  V. 


thunderstorm,  whose  place  is  in  the  air;  and  Siirya, 
the  sun,  whose  place  is  in  the  sky.  These  deities,  they 
maintained,  received  severally  many  appellations,  in  con- 
sequence of  their  greatness,  or  of  the  diversity  of  their 
functions,  just  as  a priest,  according  to  the  functions 
which  he  performs  at  various  sacrifices,  receives  various 
names. 

This  is  one  view  of  the  Yedic  gods,  and,  though  too 
narrow,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  is  some  truth  in 
it.  A very  useful  division  of  the  Yedic  gods  might  be 
made,  and  has  been  made  by  Yaska,  into  terrestrial , 
aerial , and  celestial , and  if  the  old  Hindu  theologians 
meant  no  more  than  that  all  the  manifestations  of  divine 
power  in  nature  might  be  traced  back  to  three  centres 
of  force,  one  in  the  sky,  one  in  the  air,  and  one  on  the 
earth,  he  deserves  great  credit  for  his  sagacity. 

But  he  himself  perceived  evidently  that  this  generali- 
zation was  not  quite  applicable  to  all  the  gods,  and  he 
goes  onto  say  : “ Or,  it  may  be,  these  gods  are  all  dis- 
tinct beings,  for  the  praises  addressed  to  them  are  dis- 
tinct, and  their  appellations  also.”  This  is  quite  right. 
It  is  the  very  object  of  most  of  these  divine  names  to 
impart  distinct  individuality  to  the  manifestations  of  the 
powers  of  nature  ; and  though  the  philosopher  or  the  in- 
spired poet  might  perceive  that  these  numerous  names 
were  but  names,  while  that  which  was  named  was  one 
and  one  only,  this  was  certainly  not  the  idea  of  most  of 
the  Yedic  Ah'shis  themselves,  still  less  of  the  people  who 
listened  to  their  songs  at  fairs  and  festivals.  It  is  the 
peculiar  character  of  that  phase  of  religious  thought 
which  we  have  to  study  in  the  Yeda,  that  in  it  the 
Divine  is  conceived  and  represented  as  manifold,  and 
that  many  functions  are  shared  in  common  by  various 
gods,  no  attempt  having  yet  been  made  at  organizing 


THE  LESSON'S  OF  THE  VEDA. 


169 


the  whole  body  of  the  gods,  sharply  separating  one 
from  the  other,  and  subordinating  all  of  them  to  several 
or,  in  the  end,  to  one  supreme  head. 

Availing  ourselves  of  the  division  of  the  Yedic  gods 
into  terrestrial,  aerial,  and  celestial,  as  proposed  by  some 
of  the  earliest  Indian  theologians,  we  should  have  to 
begin  with  the  gods  connected  with  the  earth. 

Before  we  examine  them,  however,  we  have  first  to 
consider  one  of  the  earliest  objects  of  worship  and  adora- 
tion, namely  Earth  and  Heaven,  or  Heaven  and  Earth , 
conceived  as  a divine  couple.  Not  only  in  India,  but 
among  many  other  nations,  both  savage,  half-savage,  or 
civilized,  we  meet  with  Heaven  and  Earth  as  one  of  the 
earliest  objects,  pondered  on,  transfigured,  and  animated 
by  the  early  poets,  and  more  or  less  clearly  conceived  by 
early  philosophers.  It  is  surprising  that  it  should  be  so, 
for  the  conception  of  the  Earth  as  an  independent  being, 
and  of  Heaven  as  an  independent  being,  and  then  of 
both  together  as  a divine  couple  embracing  the  whole 
universe,  requires  a considerable  effort  of  abstraction,  far 
more  than  the  concepts  of  other  divine  powers,  such  as 
the  Fire,  the  Rain,  the  Lightning,  or  the  Sun. 

Still  so  it  is,  and  as  it  may  help  us  to  understand  the 
ideas  about  Lleaven  and  Earth,  as  we  find  them  in  the 
Yeda,  and  show  us  at  the  same  time  the  strong  contrast 
between  the  mythology  of  the  Aryans  and  that  of  real 
savages  (a  contrast  of  great  importance,  though  I admit 
very  difficult  to  explain),  I shall  read  you  first  some  ex- 
tracts from  a book,  published  by  a friend  of  mine,  the 
Rev.  William  Wyatt  Gill,  for  many  years  an  active  and 
most  successful  missionary  in  Mangaia,  one  of  those 
Polynesian  islands  that  form  a girdle  round  one  quarter 
of  our  globe,*  and  all  share  in  the  same  language,  the 
* “ Es  handelt  sich  liier  nicht  um  amerikanisclie  ocler  afrikanisclie 


170 


LECTURE  T. 


same  religion,  the  same  mythology,  and  the  same  cus- 
toms. The  book  is  called  “ Myths  and  Songs  from  the 
South  Pacific,”*  and  it  is  full  of  interest  to  the  student 
of  mythology  and  religion. 

The  story,  as  told  him  by  the  natives  of  Mangaia, 
runs  as  follows  : f 

“ The  sky  is  built  of  solid  blue  stone.  At  one  time 
it  almost  touched  the  earth  ; resting  upon  the  stout 
broad  leaves  of  the  t e v e (which  attains  the  height  of 
about  six  feet)  and  the  delicate  indigenous  arrow-root 
(whose  slender  stem  rarely  exceeds  three  feet). 

In  this  narrow  space  between  earth  and  sky  the  inhabi- 
tants of  this  world  were  pent  up.  Ru,  whose  usual 
residence  was  in  Avaiki,  or  the  shades,  had  come  up 
for  a time  to  this  world  of  ours.  Pitying  the  wretched 
confined  residence  of  the  inhabitants,  he  employed  him- 
self in  endeavoring  to  raise  the  sky  a little.  For  this 
purpose  he  cut  a number  of  strong  stakes  of  different 
kinds  of  trees,  and  firmly  planted  them  in  the  ground  at 
Rangimotia,  the  centre  of  the  island,  and  with  him  the 
centre  of  the  world.  This  was  a considerable  improve- 
ment, as  mortals  were  thereby  enabled  to  stand  erect 
and  to  walk  about  without  inconvenience.  Hence  Ru 
was  named  ‘ The  sky-supporter.  ’ Wherefore  Teka  sings 
(1794) : 

‘ Force  up  the  sky,  O Ru, 

And  let  the  space  be  clear  ! ’ 


Zersplitterung,  sondern  eine  iiberraschende  Gleichartigkeit  dehnt 
sich  durch  die  Weite  und  Breite  des  Still  en  Oceans,  und  wenn  wir 
Oceanien  in  der  vollen  AufEassung  nehmen  mit  Einschluss  Mikxo. 
und  Mela-nesiens  (bis  Malaya),  selbst  weiter.  Es  lasst  sich  sagen, 
dass  ein  einheitlicher  Gedankenbau,  in  etwa  120  L'angen  und  70 
Breitegraden,  ein  Yiertel  unsers  Erdglobus  uberwolbt.  ” — Bastian, 
Die  Heilige  Sage  der  Polynesier,  p.  57; 

* Henry  S.  King  & Co.,  London,  1876. 


f P.  58. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  YEDA. 


171 


“ One  day  wlien  the  old  man  was  surveying  his  work, 
his  graceless  son  Maui  contemptuously  asked  him  what 
he  was  doing  there.  Ru  replied  : ‘ Who  told  youngsters 
to  talk  ? Take  care  of  yourself,  or  1 will  hurl  you  out 
of  existence.’ 

“ ‘ Do  it,  then,’  shouted  Maui. 

“ Ru  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  forthwith  seized 
Maui,  who  was  small  of  stature,  and  threw  him  to  a 
great  height.  In  falling  Maui  assumed  the  form  of  a 
bird,  and  lightly  touched  the  ground,  perfectly  un- 
harmed. Maui,  now  thirsting  for  revenge,  in  a moment 
resumed  his  natural  form,  hut  exaggerated  to  gigantic 
proportions,  and  ran  to  his  father,  saying  : 

• Eu,  who  supportest  the  many  heavens, 

The  third,  even  to  the  highest,  ascend  ! ’ 

Inserting  his  head  between  the  old  man’s  legs,  he  ex- 
erted all  his  prodigious  strength,  and  hurled  poor  Ru, 
sky  and  all,  to  a tremendous  height — so  high,  indeed, 
that  the  blue  sky  could  never  get  back  again.  Un- 
luckily, however,  for  the  sky-supporting  Ru,  his  head 
and  shoulders  got  entangled  among  the  * stars.  He 
struggled  hard,  but  fruitlessly,  to  extricate  himself. 
Maui  walked  off  well  pleased  with  having  raised  the 
sky  to  its  present  height,  but  left  half  his  father’s  body 
and  both  his  legs  ingloriously  suspended  between  heaven 
and  earth.  Thus  perished  Ru.  His  body  rotted  away, 
and  his  bones  came  tumbling  down  from  time  to  time, 
and  were  shivered  on  the  earth  into  countless  fragments. 
These  shivered  bones  of  Ru  are  scattered  over  every  hill 
and  valley  of  Mangaia,  to  the  very  edge  of  the  sea,  ” 

What  the  natives  call  ‘‘the  bones  of  Ru”  (te  ivio 
R u)  are  pieces  of  pumice-stone. 

Now  let  us  consider,  hrst  of  all,  whether  this  story, 


172 


LECTURE  V. 


which  with  slight  variations  is  told  all  over  the  Poly- 
nesian islands,*  is  pure  nonsense,  or  whether  there  was 
originally  some  sense  in  it.  My  conviction  is  that  non- 
sense is  everywhere  the  child  of  sense,  only  that  un- 
fortunately many  children,  like  that  youngster  Maui, 
consider  themselves  much  wiser  than  their  fathers,  and 
occasionally  succeed  in  hurling  them  out  of  existence. 

It  is  a peculiarity  of  many  of  the  ancient  myths  that 
they  represent  events  which  happen  every  day,  or  every 
year,  as  having  happened  once  upon  a time.f  The  daily 
battle  between  day  and  night,  the  yearly  battle  between 
winter  and  spring,  are  represented  almost  like  historical 
events,  and  some  of  the  episodes  and  touches  belonging 
originally  to  these  constant  battles  of  nature,  have 
certainly  been  transferred  into  and  mixed  up  with  battles 
that  took  place  at  a certain  time,  such  as,  for  instance, 
the  siege  of  Troy.  When  historical  recollections  failed, 
legendary  accounts  of  the  ancient  battles  between  Night 
and  Morning,  Winter  and  Spring,  were  always  at  hand  ; 
and,  as  in  modern  times  we  constantly  hear  “ good 
stories,”  which  we  have  known  from  our  childhood,  told 
again  and  again  of  any  man  whom  they  seem  to. fit,  in  the 
same  manner,  in  ancient  times,  any  act  of  prowess,  or 
daring,  or  mischief,  originally  told  of  the  sun,  “ the 
orient  Conqueror  of  gloomy  Night,”  was  readily  trans- 
ferred to  and  believed  of  any  local  hero  who  might  seem 
to  be  a second  Jupiter,  or  Mars,  or  Hercules. 

I have  little  doubt  therefore  that  as  the  accounts  of  a 
deluge,  for  instance,  which  we  find  almost  everywhere, 
are  originally  recollections  of  the  annual  torrents  of  rain 
or  snow  that  covered  the  little  worlds  within  the  ken  of 

* There  is  a second  version  ot  the  story  even  in  the  small  island 
ot  Mangaia  ; see  ' Myths  and  Songs,”  p.  71. 

f See  betore,  p.  158. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  VEDA. 


173 


the  ancient  village-bards, * this  tearing  asunder  of  heaven 
and  earth  too  was  originally  no  more  than  a description 
of  what  might  be  seen  every  morning.  During  a dark 
night  the  sky  seemed  to  cover  the  earth  ; the  two  seemed 
to  be  one,  and  could  not  be  distinguished  one  from  the 
other,  f Then  came  the  Dawn,  which  with  its  bright 
rays  lifted  the  covering  of  the  dark  night  to  a certain 
point,  till  at  last  Maui  appeared,  small  in  stature,  a mere 
child,  that  is,  the  sun  of  the  morning — thrown  up  sud- 
denly, as  it  were,  when  his  first  rays  shot  through  the 
sky  from  beneath  the  horizon,  then  falling  back  to  the 
earth,  like  a bird,  and  rising  in  gigantic  form  on  the 
morning  sky.  The  dawn  now  was  hurled  away,  and  the 
sky  was  seen  lifted  high  above  the  earth  ; and  Maui,  the 
sun,  marched  on  well  pleased  with  having  raised  the  sky 
to  its  present  height. 

Why  pumice-stone  should  be  called  the  bones  of  Ru, 
we  cannot  tell,  without  knowing  a great  deal  more  of 
the  language  of  Mangaia  than  we  do  at  present.  It  is 
most  likely  an  independent  saying,  and  was  afterward 
united  with  the  story  of  Ru  and  Maui. 

Row  I must  quote  at  least  a few  extracts  from  a Maori 
legend  as  written  down  by  Judge  Manning  : \ 

“ This  is  the  Genesis  of  the  New  Zealanders  : 

“ The  Heavens  which  are  above  us,  and  the  Earth 

* This  explanation  is  considered  altogether  inadequate  by  many 
scholars.  It  is,  of  course,  not  altogether  a question  of  learning,  but 
also  one  of  judgment. — Am.  Puns. 

f “ The  Sacred  Books  of  the  East,”  vol.  i.  p.  249  : “The  first  half 
is  the  earth,  the  second  half  the  heaven,  their  uniting  the  rain,  the 
uniter  Paryanya.”  And  so  it  is  when  it  (Paryanya)  rains  thus 
strongly — without  ceasing,  day  and  night  together- -then  they  say 
also,  “Heaven  and  earth  have  come  together.’’ — From  the  Aitareya- 
Aranyaka,  III.  2,  2. — A.  W. 

\ Bastian,  Heilige  Sago  der  I’olynesier,  p.  36. 


174 


LECTURE  V. 


which  lies  beneath  us,  are  the  progenitors  of  men,  and 
the  origin  of  all  things. 

“ Formerly  the  Heaven  lay  upon  the  Earth,  and  all 
was  darkness.  . 

“ And  the  children  of  Heaven  and  Earth  sought  to 
discover  the  difference  between  light  and  darkness, 

between  day  and  night.  ... 

“ So  the  sons  of  Rangi  (Heaven)  and  of  Papa  (Earth) 
consulted  together,  and  said,  ‘ Let  us  seek  means  where- 
by to  destroy  Heaven  and  Earth,  or  to  separate  them 
from  each  other.1 

“ Then  said  Tumatauenga  (the  God  of  War),  Let  us 


destroy  them  both. 1 , 

“ Then  said  Tane-Maliuta  (the  Forest  God),  JNot 
so  • let  them  be  separated.  Let  one  of  them  go  upward 
and  become  a stranger  to  us  ; let  the  other  remain  below 


and  be  a parent  for  us.  ’ 

“ Then  four  of  the  gods  tried  to  separate  Heaven  and 
Earth,  but  did  not  succeed,  while  the  tiftli,  Tane,  suc- 
ceeded. 

<<  After  Heaven  and  Earth  had  been  separated,  great 
storms  arose,  or,  as  the  poet  expresses  it,  one  of  their 
sons,  Tawhiri-Matea,  the  god  of  the  winds,  tried  to 
revenue  the  outrage  committed  on  his  parents  by  his 
brothers.  Then  follow  dismal  dusky  days,  and  drip- 
ping chilly  skies,  and  arid  scorching  blasts.  All  the 
p-od's  fight,  till  at  last  Tu  only  remains,  the  god  of  war, 
who  had  devoured  all  his  brothers,  except  the  Storm. 
More  fights  follow,  in  which  the  greater  part  of  the 
earth  was  overwhelmed  by  the  waters,  and  but  a small 
portion  remained  dry.  After  that,  light  continued  to 
increase,  and  as  the  light  increased,  so  also  the  people 
who  had  been  hidden  between  Heaven  and  Earth  in- 
creased . • And  so  generation  was  added  to 


THE  LESSON'S  OF  THE  VEDA. 


175 


generation  clown  to  the  time  of  Maui-Potiki,  lie  who 
brought  death  into  the  world. 

“ Now  in  these  latter  days  Heaven  remains  far  re- 
moved from  his  wife,  the  Earth  ; but  the  love  of  the 
wife  rises  upward  in  sighs  toward  her  husband.  These 
are  the  mists  which  fly  upward  from  the  mountain-tops  ; 
and  the  tears  of  Heaven  fall  downward  on  his  wife  ; 
behold  the  dew-drops  !’  ’ 

So  far  the  Maori  Genesis. 

Let  us  now  return  to  the  Veda,  and  compare  these 
crude  and  somewhat  grotesque  legends  with  the  language 
of  the  ancient  Aryan  poets.  In  the  hymns  of  the  Itig- 
Veda  the  separating  and  keeping  apart  of  Heaven  and 
Earth  is  several  times  alluded  to,  and  here  too  it  is  repre- 
sented as  the  work  of  the  most  valiant  gods.  In  I.  67, 
3 it  is  Agni,  fire,  who  holds  the  earth  and  supports  the 
heaven  ; in  X.  89,  4 it  is  Indra  Avho  keeps  them  apart  ; 
in  IX.  101,  15  Soma  is  celebrated  for  the  same  deed, 
and  in  III.  31,  12  other  gods  too  share  the  same  honor.* 
In  the  Aitareya  Brahmana  we  read  : f “ These  twro 
worlds  (Heaven  and  Earth)  were  once  joined  together. 
They  went  asunder.  Then  it  did  not  rain,  nor  did  the 
sun  shine.  And  the  five  tribes  did  not  agree  with  one 
another.  The  gods  then  brought  the  two  (Heaven  and 
Earth)  together,  and  when  they  came  together  they 
formed  a wredding  of  the  gods.  ’ ’ 

Here  we  have  in  a shorter  form  the  same  funda- 
mental ideas  : first,  that  formerly  Heaven  and  Earth 
were  together  ; that  afterward  they  were  separated  ; that 
when  they  were  thus  separated  there  was  war  throughout 
nature,  and  neither  rain  nor  sunshine  ; that,  lastly, 

* Bergaigne,  “ La  Keligion  Vedique,"  p.  240, 

\ Ait.  Br.  IV.  27  ; Muir,  iv.  p.  23, 


176 


LECTURE  Y. 


Heaven  and  Earth  were  conciliated,  and  that  then  a 
great  wedding  took  place. 

How  I need  hardly  remind  those  who  are  acquainted 
with  Greek  and  Roman  literature,  how  familiar  these 
and  similar  conceptions  about  a marriage  between  Heaven 
and  earth  were  in  Greece  and  Italy.  They  seem  to 
possess  there  a more  special  reference  to  the  annual 
reconciliation  between  Heaven  and  Earth,  which  takes 
place  in  spring,  and  to  their  former  estrangement  during 
winter.  But  the  first  cosmological  separation  of  the 
two  always  points  to  the  want  of  light  and  the  impos- 
sibility of  distinction  during  the  night,  and  the  gradual 
lifting  up  of  the  blue  sky  through  the  rising  of  the  sun.* 
In  the  Homeric  hymns  f the  Earth  is  addressed  as 

“ Mother  of  gods,  tne  wife  of  the  starry  Heaven  J 

and  the  Heaven  or  ^Etlier  is  often  called  the  father. 
Their  marriage  too  is  described,  as,  for  instance,  by 
Euripides,  when  he  says  : 

“There  is  the  mighty  Earth,  Jove’s  JEther  : 

He  (the  either)  is  the  creator  of  men  and  gods  ; 

The  earth  receiving  the  moist  drops  of  rain, 

Bears  mortals, 

Bears  food,  and  the  tribes  of  animals. 

Hence  she  is  not  unjustly  regarded 
As  the  mother  of  all.”  § 


* See  Muir,  iv.  p.  24.  f Homer,  Hymn  xxx.  17. 

\ Xalpe  Beuv  pimp,  aXox'  O vpavov  aorepoevroc. 

§ Euripides,  Chrysippus,  fragrn.  6 (edit.  Didot,  p.  824)  : 

Tata  peyi-arr)  rn'i  Aide;  atOrjp, 
o piv  avOpuKuv  cat  OeCiv  yeverup, 
fy  J’  vypoftblov f oraybvat;  vot’iovq 
Tzapabe^apcvT)  tiktcl  Ovarovc, 
riKTCL  61  iiopuv,  f)C'Aa  re  (jr/puv, 
oBev  ovk  abinoc 
prjrrip  ndvruv  vevopiorai. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  VEDA. 


177 


And  what  is  more  curious  still  is  that  we  have  evi- 
dence that  Euripides  received  this  doctrine  from  his 
teacher,  the  philosopher  Anaxagoras.  For  Dionysius  of 
Halicarnassus  * tells  us  that  Euripides  frequented  the 
lectures  of  Anaxagoras.  N ow,  it  was  the  theory  of  that 
philosopher  that  originally  all  things  were  in  all  things, 
but  that  afterward  they  became  separated.  Euripides 
later  in  life  associated  with  Sokrates,  and  became  doubt- 
ful regarding  that  theory.  lie  accordingly  propounds 
the  ancient  doctrine  by  the  mouth  of  another,  namely 
Melanippe,  who  says  : 

“ This  saying  (myth)  is  not  mine,  but  came  from  my 
mother,  that  formerly  Heaven  and  Earth  were  one 
shape  ; but  when  they  were  separated  from  each  other, 
they  gave  birth  and  brought  all  things  into  the  light, 
trees,  birds,  beasts,  and  the  fishes  Avliom  the  sea  feeds, 
and  the  race  of  mortals.” 

Thus  we  have  met  with  the  same  idea  of  the  original 
union,  of  a separation,  and  of  a subsequent  reunion  of 
Heaven  and  Earth  in  Greece,  in  India,  and  in  the  Poly- 
nesian islands. 

Let  us  now  see  how  the  poets  of  the  Yeda  address 
these  two  beings,  Heaven  and  Earth. 

They  are  mostly  addressed  in  the  dual,  as  two  beings 
forming  but  one  concept.  We  meet,  however,  with 
verses  which  are  addressed  to  the  Earth  by  herself,  and 
which  speak  of  her  as  “ kind,  without  thorns,  and 
pleasant  to  dwell  on,”f  while  there  are  clear  traces  in 
some  of  the  hymns  that  at  one  time  Dyaus,  the  sky,  was 
the  supreme  deity.  \ When  invoked  together  they  are 

* Dionysius  Halie.,  vol.  v.  p.  355  ; Muir,  v.  p.  27. 

f Rig-Veda  I.  22,  15. 

\ See  “ Lectures  on  the  Science  of  Language,"  vol.  ii.  p.  4G8. 


178 


LECTURE  Y. 


called  Dyavaprithivyau,  from  d y u,  tlie  sky,  and 
p r i t li  i v i,  the  broad  earth. 

If  we  examine  their  epithets,  we  find  that  many  of 
them  reflect  simply  the  physical  aspects  of  Heaven  and 
Earth.  Thus  they  are  called  uru,  wide  ; uruvyaias, 
widely  expanded,  dure -ante,  with  limits  far  apart, 
g a b h i r a,  deep  ; ghrHavat,  giving  fat  ; madli  u- 
d u g h a,  yielding  honey  or  dew  ; payasvat,  full  of 
milk  ; bhuri-retas,  rich  in  seed. 

Another  class  of  epithets  represents  them  already  as 
endowed  with  certain  human  and  superhuman  qualities, 
such  as  asa«I’at,  never  tiring,  a g a r a,  not  decaying, 
which  brings  us  very  near  to  immortal  ; adruh,  not  in- 
juring, or  not  deceiving,  pra&etas,  provident,  and 
then  pita-mata,  father  and  mother,  devaputra,  having 
the  gods  for  their  sons,  r i t a - v r i d h and  ri  t a v a t, 
protectors  of  the  TA'ta,  of  what  is  right,  guardians  of 
eternal  laws. 

Here  you  see  what  is  so  interesting  in  the  Veda,  the 
gradual  advance  from  the  material  to  the  spiritual,  from 
the  sensuous  to  the  supersensuous,  from  the  human  to  the 
superhuman  and  the  divine.  Heaven  and  Earth  were 
seen,  and,  according  to  our  notions,  they  might  simply 
be  classed  as  visible  and  finite  beings.  But  the  ancient 
poets  were  more  honest  to  themselves.  They  could  see 
Heaven  and  Earth,  but  they  never  saw  them  in  their 
entirety.  They  felt  that  there  was  something  beyond  the 
purely  finite  aspect  of  these  beings,  and  therefore  they 
thought  of  them,  not  as  they  would  think  of  a stone,  or 
a tree,  or  a dog,  but  as  something  not- finite,  not  al- 
together visible  or  knowable,  yet  as  something  important 
to  themselves,  powerful,  strong  to  bless,  but  also  strong 
to  hurt.  Whatever  was  between  Heaven  and  Earth 
seemed  to  be  theirs,  their  property,  their  realm,  their 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  YEDA. 


179 


a 

dominion.  They  held  and  embraced  all  ; they  seemed 
to  have  produced  all.  The  Devas  or  bright  beings,  the 
sun,  the  dawn,  the  fire,  the  wind,  the  rain,  were  all 
theirs,  and  were  called  therefore  the  offspring  of  Heaven 
and  Earth.  Thus  Heaven  and  Earth  became  the  Uni- 
versal Father  and  Mother. 

Then  we  ask  at  once  : “ Were  then  these  Heaven  and 
Earth  gods  ?”  But  gods  in  what  sense  ? In  our  sense  of 
God  ? Why,  in  our  sense,  God  is  altogether  incapable  of 
a plural.  Then  in  the  Greek  sense  of  the  word  ? No, 
certainly  not ; for  what  the  Greeks  called  gods  was  the 
result  of  an  intellectual  growth  totally  independent  of  the 
Veda  or  of  India.  We  must  never  forget  that  what  we 
call  gods  in  ancient  mythologies  are  not  substantial, 
living,  individual  beings,  of  whom  we  can  predicate  this 
or  that.  Dev  a,  which  wo  translate  by  god,  is  nothing 
but  an  adjective,  expressive  of  a quality  shared  by 
heaven  and  earth,  by  the  sun  and  the  stars  and  the  dawn 
and  the  sea,  namely  brightness ; and  the  idea  of  god,  at 
that  early  time,  contains  neither  more  nor  less  than  what 
is  shared  in  common  by  all  these  bright  beings.  That  is 
to  say,  the  idea  of  god  is  not  an  idea  ready-made,  which 
could  be  applied  in  its  abstract  purity  to  heaven  and 
earth  and  other  such  like  beings  ; but  it  is  an  idea, 
growing  out  of  the  concepts  of  heaven  and  earth  and  of 
the  other  blight  beings,  slowly  separating  itself  from 
them,  but  never  containing  more  than  what  was  con- 
tained, though  confusedly,  in  the  objects  to  which  it  was 
successively  applied. 

Nor  must  it  be  supposed  that  heaven  and  earth,  having 
once  been  raised  to  the  rank  of  undecaying  or  immortal 
beings,  of  divine  parents,  of  guardians  of  the  laws,  were 
thus  permanently  settled  in  the  religious  consciousness  of 
the  people.  Far  from  it.  When  the  ideas  of  other 


180 


LECTURE  V. 


gods,  and  of  more  active  and  more  distinctly  personal 
gods  had  been  elaborated,  the  Yedic  Ah’shis  asked  without 
hesitation  : Who  then  has  made  heaven  and  earth  ? not 
exactly  Heaven  and  Earth,  as  conceived  before,  but 
heaven  and  earth  as  seen  every  day,  as  a part  of  what 
began  to  be  called  Nature  or  the  Universe. 

Thus  one  poet  says  : * * * § 

*'  He  was  indeed  among  the  gods  the  cleverest  work- 
man who  produced  the  two  brilliant  ones  (heaven  and 
earth),  that  gladden  all  things  ; he  who  measured  out 
the  two  bright  ones  (heaven  and  earth)  by  his  wisdom, 
and  established  them  on  everlasting  supports.” 

And  again  :f  “ He  was  a good  workman  who  pro- 
duced heaven  and  earth  ; the  wise,  who  by  his  might 
brought  together  these  two  (heaven  and  earth),  the 
wide,  the  deep,  the  well-fasliioned  in  the  bottomless 
space.” 

Yery  soon  this  great  work  of  making  heaven  and  earth 
was  ascribed,  like  other  mighty  works,  to  the  mightiest 
of  their  gods,  to  Indra.  At  first  we  read  that  Indra, 
originally  only  a kind  of  Jupiter  pluvius,  or  god  of  rain, 
stretched  out  heaven  and  earth,  like  a hide  ;+  that  he 
held  them  in  his  hand,§  that  he  upholds  heaven  and 
earth,||  and  that  he  grants  heaven  and  earth  to  his 
worshippers.  \ But  very  soon  Indra  is  praised  for  having 
made  Heaven  and  Earth  ; **  and  then,  when  the  poet 
remembers  that  Heaven  and  Earth  had  been  praised 
elsewhere  as  the  parents  of  the  gods,  and  more  especially 
as  the  parents  of  Indra,  he  does  not  hesitate  for  a 
moment,  but  says  : ff  “ What  poets  living  before  us 


* Rig-Yeda  I.  160,  4. 

f L.  c.  IV.  56,  3. 

i L.  c.  Vm.  6,  5. 

§ L.  c.  III.  30,  5. 


||  L.  c.  in.  34,  8. 
f L.  c.  m.  34,  8. 
**  L.  c.  Vm.  36,  4. 
tf  L.  c.  X.  54,  3. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  VEDA. 


181 


have  reached  the  end  of  all  thy  greatness  ? for  thou  hast 
indeed  begotten  thy  father  and  thy  mother  together* * * § 
from  thy  own  body  !” 

That  is  a strong  measure,  and  a god  who  once  could 
do  that,  was  no  doubt  capable  of  anything  afterward. 
The  same  idea,  namely  that  Indra  is  greater  than  heaven 
and  earth,  is  expressed  in  a less  outrageous  way  by 
another  poet,  who  says  f that  Indra  is  greater  than 
heaven  and  earth,  and  that  both  together  are  only  a 
half  of  Indra.  Or  again  : ^ “ The  divine  Dyaus  bowed 
before  Indra,  before  Indra  the  great  Earth  bowed  with 
her  wide  spaces.”  “ At  the  birth  of  thy  splendor 
Dyaus  tfeinbled,  the  Earth  trembled  for  fear  of  thy 
anger.  ”§ 

Thus,  from  one  point  of  view,  Heaven  and  Earth 
were  the  greatest  gods,  they  were  the  parents  of  every- 
thing, and  therefore  of  the  gods  also,  such  as  Indra  and 
others. 

But,  from  another  point  of  view,  every  god  that  was 
considered  as  supreme  at  one  time  or  other,  must  neces- 
sarily have  made  heaven  and  earth,  must  at  all  events 
be  greater  than  heaven  and  earth,  and  thus  the  child 
became  greater  than  the  father,  a)’,  became  the  father 
of  his  father.  Indra  was  not  the  only  god  that  created 
heaven  and  earth.  In  one  hymn  ||  that  creation  is 
ascribed  to  Soma  and  Pushan,  by  no  means  very  prom- 
inent characters  ; in  another  f to  Iiirawyagarbha  (the 
golden  germ)  ; in  another  again  to  a god  who  is  simply 
called  Dhatri,  the  Creator,**  or  Vis  valvar  man,  ft  the 

* Cf.  IV.  17,  4,  where  Dyaus  is  the  father  of  Indra  ; see  however 
Muir,  iv.  31,  note.  ||  L.  c.  II.  40,  1. 

f Eig-Veda  VI.  30,  1.  1 L.  c.  X.  121,  9. 

\ L.  c.  I.  131,  1.  **  L.  c.  X.  190,  3. 

§ L.  c.  IV.  17,  2.  ft  L-  c.  X.  81,  2. 


182 


LECTURE  Y. 


maker  of  all  tilings.  Other  gods,  such  as  Mitra  and 
SavitW,  names  of  the  sun,  are  praised  for  upholding 
Heaven  and  Earth,  and  the  same  task  is  sometimes 
performed  by  the  old  god  Yanina  * also. 

What  I wish  you  to  observe  in  all  this  is  the  perfect 
freedom  with  which  these  so-called  gods  or  Devas  are 
handled,  and  particularly  the  ease  and  naturalness  with 
which  now  the  one,  now  the  other  emerges  as  supreme 
out  of  this  chaotic  tlieogony.  This  is  the  peculiar  char- 
acter of  the  ancient  Yedic  religion,  totally  different  both 
from  the  Polytheism  and  from  the  Monotheism  as  we 
see  it  in  the  Greek  and  the  Jewish  religions  ; and  if  the 
Yeda  had  taught  us  nothing  else  but  this  henotheistic 
phase,  which  must  everywhere  have  preceded  the  more 
highly-organized  phase  of  Polytheism  which  we  see  in 
Greece,  in  Rome,  and  elsewhere,  the  study  of  the  Yeda 
would  not  have  been  in  vain. 

It  may  be  quite  true  that  the  poetry  of  the  Yeda  is 
neither  beautiful,  in  our  sense  of  the  word,  nor  very  pro- 
found ; but  it  is  instructive.  When  we  see  those  two 
giant  spectres  of  Heaven  and  Earth  on  the  background 
of  the  Yedic  religion,  exerting  their  influence  for  a time, 
and  then  vanishing  before  the  light  of  younger  and  more 
active  gods,  we  learn  a lesson  which  it  is  well  to  learn, 
and  which  we  can  hardly  learn  anywhere  else — the  lesson 
how  gods  were  made  and  unmade — how  the  Beyond  or 
the  Infinite  was  named  by  different  names  in  order  to 
bring  it  near  to  the  mind  of  man,  to  make  it  for  a time 
comprehensible,  until,  when  name  after  name  had  proved 
of  no  avail,  a nameless  God  was  felt  to  answer  best  the 
restless  cravings  of  the  human  heart. 

I shall  next  translate  to  you  the  hymn  to  which  I re- 
ferred before  as  addressed  to  the  Rivers.  If  the  Rivers 

* Rig-Yeda  VI.  70,  1. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  VEDA. 


183 


are  to  be  called  deities  at  all,  they  belong  to  the  class  of 
terrestrial  deities.  But  the  reason  why  I single  out  this 
hymn  is  not  so  much  because  it  throws  new  light  on  the 
theogonic  process,  but  because  it  may  help  to  impart  some 
reality  to  the  vague  conceptions  which  we  form  to  our- 
selves of  the  ancient  Yedic  poets  and  their  surroundings. 
The  rivers  invoked  are,  as  we  shall  see,  the  real  /. . . 

the  Punjab,  and  the  poem  shows  a much  wider  geographi- 
cal horizon  than  we  should  expect  from  a mere  village- 
bard.* 

1.  u Let  the  poet  declare,  O Waters,  your  exceeding 
greatness,  here  in  the  seat  of  Vivasvat.  f By  seven  and 
seven  they  have  come  forth  in  three  courses,  but  the 
Sindhu  (the  Indus)  exceeds  all  the  other  wandering  rivers 
by  her  strength. 

2.  “ Varuua  dug  out  paths  for  thee  to  walk  on,  when 
thou  rannest  to  the  race.  \ Thou  proceedest  on  a pre- 

* Rig-Veda  X.  75.  See  Hibberfc  Lectures,  Lect.  iv. 

f Vivasvat  is  a name  of  the  sun,  and  the  seat  or  home  of  Vivasvat 
can  hardly  be  anything  but  the  earth,  as  the  home  of  the  sun,  or, 
in  a more  special  sense,  the  place  where  a sacrifice  is  offered. 

J I formerly  translated  yat  vajan  abhi  adrava/i  tvam  by  “when 
thou  rannest  for  the  prizes.”  Grassman  had  translated  similarly, 
“When  thou,  O Sindhu,  rannest  to  the  prize  of  the  battle,”  while 
Ludwig  wrote,  “When  thou,  O Sindhu,  wast  flowing  on  to  greater 
powers.”  VSya,  connected  with  vegeo,  vigeo,  vigil,  wacker  (see 
Curtius,  Grundziige,  No.  159),  is  one  of  the  many  difficult  words  in 
the  Veda  the  general  meaning  of  which  may  be  guessed,  but  in 
many  places  cannot  yet  be  determined  with  certainty.  Vfuya  occurs 
very  frequently,  both  in  the  singular  and  the  plural,  and  some  of 
its  meanings  are  clear  enough.  The  Petersburg  Dictionary  gives 
the  following  list  of  them — swiftness,  race,  prize  of  race,  gain, 
treasure,  race-horse,  etc.  Here  we  perceive  at  once  the  difficulty 
of  tracing  all  these  meanings  back  to  a common  source,  though  it 
might  be  possible  to  begin  with  the  meanings  of  strength,  strife, 
contest,  race,  whether  friendly  or  warlike,  then  to  proceed  to  what 
is  won  in  a race  or  in  war,  viz.  booty,  treasure,  and  lastly  to  take 


184 


LECTURE  Y. 


cipitous  rklge  of  the  earth,  when  thou  art  lord  in  the 
van  of  all  the  moving  streams. 

3.  “ The  sound  rises  up  to  heaven  above  the  earth  ; 
she  stirs  up  with  splendor  her  endless  power.*  As  from 
a cloud,  the  showers  thunder  forth,  when  the  Sindhu 
comes,  roaring  like  a bull. 

4.  “To  thee,  0 Sindhu,  they  (the  other  rivers)  come 
as  lowing  mother-cows  (run)  to  their  young  with  their 
milk.f  Like  a king  in  battle  thou  leadest  the  two  -wings, 
when  thou  readiest  the  front  of  these  down-rushing: 
rivers. 

5.  “ Accept,  O GangA  (Ganges),  YamunA  (Jumna), 
Sarasvati  (Sursuti),  Autudri  (Sutlej),  Paruslmi  (IrAvAti, 


vaga h in  the  more  general  sense  of  acquisitions,  goods,  even  goods 
bestowed  as  gifts.  We  have  a similar  transition  of  meaning  in  the 
Greek  «0/loc,  contest,  contest  for  a prize,  and  uO'aov,  the  prize  of 
contest,  reward,  gift,  while  in  the  plural  r a drJ?.a  stands  again  for 
contest,  or  even  the  place  of  combat.  The  Vedic  vayambhara  may 
in  fact  he  rendered  by  ad^oijtopog,  vayasati  by  dQXoovv 

The  transition  from  fight  to  prize  is  seen  in  passages  such  as  : 
Eig-Veda  VI.  45,  12,  vilyan  indra  sravayyan  tvaya  yeshna  hitam 
dhanam,  ‘ ‘ May  we  with  thy  help,  O Indra,  win  the  glorious  fights, 
the  offered  prize”  (cf.  aO’XoOcrj] f). 

Eig-Veda  VIII.  19,  18,  te  it  vSyebhift  yigyuA  mahat  dhanam, 
“ They  won  great  wealth  by  battles.” 

What  we  want  for  a proper  understanding  of  our  verse,  are 
passages  where  we  have,  as  here,  a movement  toward  vayas  in  the 
plural.  Such  passages  are  few  ; for  instance  : X.  53,  8,  atra 
yahama  ye  asan  asevah  sivan  vayam  lit  tarema  abhi  vayan,  “Let 
us  leave  here  those  who  -were  unlucky  (the  dead),  and  let  us  get  up 
to  lucky  toils.”  No  more  is  probably  meant  here  when  the  Sindhu 
is  said  to  run  toward  her  vayas,  that  is,  her  struggles,  her  fights, 
her  race  across  the  mountains  with  the  other  rivers. 

* On  sushma,  strength,  see  Eig-Veda,  translation,  vol.  i.  p.  105. 
We  find  subhram  .s-Qshmam  II.  11,  4 ; and  iyarti  with  sQshmam 
IV.  17,  12. 

•(•  See  Muir,  Santkrit  Texts,  v.  p.  344. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  VEDA. 


185 


Ravi),  my  praise  !*  With  the  Asikni  (Akesines)  listen,  O 
MarudvWdha,f  and  with  the  Vitasta  (Ilydaspes,  Behat)  ; 

O Ar^ikiya,J  listen  with  the  Sushoma.  § 

6.  “ First  thou  goest  united  with  the  TV/sh&ima  on 
thy  journey,  with  the  Susartu,  the  Rasa  (Ramha, 
Araxes  ? ||),  and  the  Aveti — O Sindhu,  with  the  Kubha 
(Ivophen,  Cabul  river)  to  the  Gomati  (Gomal),  with  the 
Mehatnu  to  the  Krumu  (Kurum) — with  whom  tliou  pro- 
ceedest  together. 

7.  “ Sparkling,  bright,  with  mighty  splendor  she 
carries  the  waters  across  the  plains — -the  unconquered 
Sindhu,  the  quickest  of  the  quick,  like  a beautiful  mare 
— a sight  to  see. 

8.  “ Rich  in  horses,  in  chariots,  in  garments,  in  gold, 
in  booty, T in  wool,**  and  in  straw, ff  the  Sindhu,  hand- 
some and  young,  clothes  herself  in  sweet  flowers. \\ 

* “O  Marudvridha  with  Asikni,  Vitasta;  O Aryikiya,  listen  with 
the  Sushoma,  Ludwig.  “Asikni  and  Vitasta  and  Marudvridha, 
with  the  Sushoma,  hear  us,  O Aryikiya,”  Grassman. 

f Marudvridha,  a general  name  for  river.  According  to  Roth 
the  combined  course  of  tho  Akesines  and  Hydaspes,  before  the 
junction  with  the  Hydraotes  ; according  to  Ludwig,  the  river  after 
the  junction  with  Hydraotes.  Zimmer  (Altindisches  Leben,  p.  12) 
adopts  Roth’s,  Kiepert  in  his  maps  follows  Ludwig’s  opinion. 

t According  to  Iaska,  the  Aryikiya  is  the  Vipas.  Vivien  de  Saint- 
Martin  takes  it  for  the  country  watered  by  the  Suwan,  the  Soanos 
of  Megasthenes. 

§ According  to  Yaska  the  Sushoma  is  tho  Indus.  Vivien  de 
Saint-Martin  identifies  it  with  the  Suwan.  Zimmer  (1.  c.  p.  14) 
points  out  that  in  Arrian,  Indica,  iv.  12,  there  is  a various  reading 
Soamos  for  Soanos. 

||  “ Chips  from  a German  Workshop,”  vol.  i.  p.  157. 

Vayinivati  is  by  no  means  an  easy  word.  Hence  all  transla- 
tors vary,  and  none  settles  the  meaning.  Muir  translates,  “yielding 
nutriment;”  Zimmer,  "having  plenty  of  quick  horses;”  Ludwig, 
“like  a strong  mare.”  Vayin,  no  doubt,  means  a strong  horse,  a 

[Notes  **,  +t,  on  next  page.] 


1S6 


LECTURE  V. 


9.  “ The  Sindlm  has  joked  her  easy  chariot  with 
horses  ; may  she  conquer  prizes  for  us  in  the  race.  The 

racer,  but  vayini  never  occurs  in  the  Rig-Yeda  in  the  sense  of  a mare, 
and  the  text  is  not  vayinivat,  but  vayinivati.  If  vayini  meant  mare, 
we  might  translate  rich  in  mares,  but  that  would  be  a mere  repetition 
after  svasva,  possessed  of  good  horses.  Vayinivati  is  chiefly  applied 
to  Ushas,  Sarasvati,  and  here  to  the  river  Sindhu.  It  is  joined 
with  vayebhi/i,  Rig-Yeda  I.  3,  10,  which,  if  vayini  meant  mare, 
would  mean  “ rich  in  mares  through  horses.’  ’ "We  also  read,  Rig-Yeda 
I.  48,  16,  sam  (na h mimikshva)  vayaift  vayinivati,  which  we  can 
hardly  translate  by  “give  us  horses,  thou  who  art  possessed  of 
mares nor,  Rig-Yeda  I.  92,  15,  yukshva  hi  vayinivati  asvan, 
“harness  the  horses,  thou  who  art  rich  in  mares.”  In  most  of  the 
jmssages  where  vayinivati  occurs,  the  goddess  thus  addressed  is 
represented  as  rich,  and  asked  to  bestow  wealth,  and  I should 
therefore  prefer  to  take  vayini,  as  a collective  abstract  noun,  like 
tretini,  in  the  sense  of  wealth,  originally  booty,  and  to  translate 
vayinivati  simply  by  rich,  a meaning  well  adapted  to  every  passage 
where  the  word  occurs. 

**  Urnavati,  rich  in  wool,  probably  refers  to  the  flocks  of  sheep 
for  which  the  North-West  of  India  was  famous.  See  Rig-Veda  I. 
126,  7. 

ff  Silamavati  does  not  occur  again  in  the  Rig-Veda.  Muir  trans- 
lates, “ rich  in  plants  Zimmer,  “ rich  in  water  Ludwig  takes  it  as 
a proper  name.  Sayana  states  that  silama  is  a plant  which  is  made 
into  ropes.  That  the  meaning  of  silamavati  was  forgotten  at  an 
early  time  we  see  by  the  Atharva-Yeda  III.  12,  2,  substituting 
sunritavati,  for  silamavati,  as  preserved  in  the  Aankhayana  Grihya- 
sutras,  3,  3.  I think  silama  means  straw,  from  whatever  plant  it  may 
be  taken,  and  this  would  be  equally  applicable  to  a sala,  a house, 
a sthuna,  a post,  and  to  the  river  Indus.  It  may  have  been,  as 
Ludwig  conjectures,  an  old  local  name,  and  in  that  case  it  may 
possibly  account  for  the  name  given  in  later  times  to  the  Suleiman 
range. 

^ Madhuvndh  is  likewise  a word  which  does  not  occur  again  in 
the  Rig-Yeda.  Sayana  explains  it  by  nirgundi  and  similar  plants, 
but  it  is  doubtful  what  plant  is  meant.  Guuda  is  the  name  of 
a grass,  madhuvndh  therefore  may  have  been  a plant  such  as  sugar- 
can^,  that  yielded  a sweet  juice,  the  Upper  Indus  being  famous  for 
sugar-cane  ; see  Hiouen-thsang,  II.  p.  105.  I take  adhivaste  with 
Roth  in  the  sense  “she  dresses  herself,”  as  we  might  say  “the  river 


THE  LESSORS  OF  THE  VEDA. 


187 


greatness  of  her  chariot  is  praised  as  truly  great — that 
chariot  which  is  irresistible,  which  has  its  own  glory,  and 
abundant  strength.”* 

This  hymn  does  not  sound  perhaps  very  poetical,  in 
our  sense  of  the  word  ; yet  if  you  will  try  to  realize  the 
thoughts  of  the  poet  who  composed  it,  you  will  perceive 
that  it  is  not  without  some  bold  and  powerful  concep- 
tions. 

Take  the  modern  peasants,  living  in  their  villages  by 
the  side  of  the  Thames,  and  you  must  admit  that  he 
would  be  a remarkable  man  who  could  bring  himself  to 
look  on  the  Thames  as  a kind  of  a general,  riding  at  the 
head  of  many  English  rivers,  and  leading  them  on  to  a 
race  or  a battle.  Yet  it  is  easier  to  travel  in  England, 
and  to  gain  a commanding  view  of  the  river-system  of 
the  country,  than  it  was  three  thousand  years  ago  to 
travel  over  India,  even  over  that  part  of  India  which  the 
poet  of  our  hymn  commands.  He  takes  in  at  one  swoop 
three  great  river-systems,  or,  as  he  calls  them,  three 
great  armies  of  rivers— -those  flowing  from  the  north- 
west into  the  Indus,  those  joining  it  from  the  north-east, 
and,  in  the  distance,  the  Ganges  and  the  Jumnah  with 
their  tributaries.  Look  on  the  map  and  you  will  see  how 
well  these  three  armies  are  determined  ; but  our  poet 
had  no  map — he  had  nothing  but  high  mountains  and 
sharp  eyes  to  carry  out  his  trigonometrical  survey.  How 

is  dressed  in  heather.”  Muir  translates,  “ she  traverses  aland  yield- 
ing sweetness  Zimmer,  “she  clothes  herself  in Madhuvridh  Lud- 
wig, “ the  Silamavati  throws  herself  into  the  increaser  of  the  honey- 
sweet  dew.”  All  this  shows  how  little  progress  can  be  made  in 
Vedic  scholarship  by  merely  translating  either  words  or  verses, 
without  giving  at  the  same  time  a full  justification  of  the  meaning 
assigned  to  every  single  word. 

* See  Petersburg  Dictionary,  s.  v.  virapsin. 


188 


LECTURE  V. 


I call  a man,  who  for  the  first  time  could  see  those  three 
marching  armies  of  rivers,  a poet. 

The  next  thing  that  strikes  one  in  that  hymn — if 
hymn  we  must  call  it- — is  the  fact  that  all  these  rivers, 
large  and  small,  have  their  own  proper  names.  That 
shows  a considerable  advance  in  civilized  life,  and  it 
proves  no  small  degree  of  coherence,  or  what  the  French 
call  solidarity,  between  the  tribes  who  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  Northern  India.  Most  settlers  call  the  river  on 
whose  banks  they  settle  u the  river.”  Of  course  there 
are  many  names  for  river.  It  may  be  called  the 
runner,*  the  fertilizer,  the  roarer — or,  with  a little  poet- 
ical metaphor,  the  arrow,  the  horse,  the  cow,  the  father, 
the  mother,  the  watchman,  the  child  of  the  mountains. 
Many  rivers  had  many  names  in  different  parts  of  their 
course,  and  it  was  only  when  communication  between 
different  settlements  became  more  frequent,  and  a fixed 
terminology  was  felt  to  be  a matter  of  necessity,  that  the 
rivers  of  a country  were  properly  baptized  and  regis- 
tered. All  this  had  been  gone  through  in  India  before 
our  hymn  became  possible. 

And  now  we  have  to  consider  another,  to  my  mind 
most  startling  fact.  We  here  have  a number  of  names 
of  the  rivers  of  India,  as  they  were  known  to  one  single 
poet,  say  about  1000  b.c.  We  then  hear  nothing  of 
India  till  we  come  to  the  days  of  Alexander,  and  when 
we  look  at  the  names  of  the  Indian  rivers,  represented 
as  well  as  they  could  be  by  Alexander’s  companions, 
mere  strangers  in  India,  and  by  means  of  a strange 
language  and  a strange  alphabet,  we  recognize,  without 
much  difficulty,  nearly  all  of  the  old  Yedic  names. 

* “ Among  tlie  Hottentots,  the  Kunene,  Okavango,  and  Orange 
rivers,  all  have  the  name  of  Garib,  i.e.  the  Runner.” — Dr.  Tlieoph. 
Hahn,  Gape  Times,  July  11,  1882. 


THE  LESSONS  OP  THE  VEDA. 


189 


In  tills  respect  the  names  of  rivers  have  a great 
advantage  over  the  names  of  towns  in  India.  What  we 
now  call  Dilli  or  Delhi  * was  in  ancient  times  called 
Indraprastha,  in  later  times  Shahjahdnabdd.  Oude  is 
Ayodhya,  but  the  old  name  of  Saketa  is  forgotten.  The 
town  of  Patfaliputra,  known  to  the  Greeks  as  Palim- 
hothra,  is  now  called  Patna,  f 

Now  I can  assure  you  this  persistency  of  the  Yedic 
river-names  was  to  my  mind  something  so  startling  that 
I often  said  to  myself,  This  cannot  be — there  must  be 
something  wrong  here.  I do  not  wonder  so  much  at 
the  names  of  the  Indus  and  the  Ganges  being  the  same. 
The  Indus  was  known  to  early  traders,  whether  by  sea 
or  by  land.  Skylax  sailed  from  the  country  of  the 
Paktys,  i.e.  the  Puslitus,  as  the  Afghans  still  call 
themselves,  down  to  the  mouth  of  the  Indus.  That 
was  under  Darius  Ilystaspes  (521-486).  Even  before 
that  time  India  and  the  Indians  were  known  by  their 
name,  which  was  derived  from  Sindhu , the  name  of  their 
frontier  river.  The  neighboring  tribes  who  spoke  Iranic 
languages  all  pronounced,  like  the  Persian,  the  s as  an 
h.X  Thus  Sindhu  became  Hindhu  (Hidhu),  and,  ash's 
were  dropped  even  at  that  early  time,  Hindhu  became 
Indu.  Thus  the  river  was  called  lidos,  the  people 
Indoi  by  the  Greeks,  who  first  heard  of  India  from  the 
Persians. 

Sindhu  probably  meant  originally  the  divider,  keeper, 
and  defender,  from  sidh,  to  keep  off.  It  was  a mas- 
culine, before  it  became  a feminine.  No  more  telling 
name  could  have  been  given  to  a broad  river,  which 
guarded  peaceful  settlers  both  against  the  inroads  of 

* De/di,  not  Del-high. — A.  W. 

f Cunningham,  “ Archaeological  Survey  of  India,”  vol.  xii.  p.  113. 

t Pliny,  Hist.  Nat.  vi.  20,  71  : “ Indus  incolis  Sindus  appellatus.” 


190 


LECTURE  Y. 


hostile  tribes  and  the  attacks  of  wild  animals.  A com- 
mon name  for  the  ancient  settlements  of  the  Aryans  in 
India  was  “the  Seven  Rivers,”  “ Sapta  SindhavaA.” 
But  though  sindliu  was  used  as  an  appellative  noun  for 
river  in  general  (cf.  Rig- Veda  VI.  19,  5,  samudre  na 
sindhavaA  yadamanaA,  “ like  rivers  longing  for  the 
sea”),  it  remained  throughout  the  whole  history  of  In- 
dia the  name  of  its  powerful  guardian  river,  the  Indus. 

In  some  passages  of  the  Rig-Areda  it  has  been  pointed 
out  that  sindliu  might  better  be  translated  by  “ sea,”  a 
change  of  meaning,  if  so  it  can  be  called,  fully  explained 
by  the  geographical  conditions  of  the  country.  There 
are  places  where  people  could  swim  across  the  Indus, 
there  are  others  where  no  eye  could  tell  whether  the 
boundless  expanse  of  water  should  be  called  river  or 
sea.  The  two  run  into  each  other,  as  every  sailor 
knows,  and  naturally  the  meaning  of  sindliu,  river,  runs 
into  the  meaning  of  sindliu,  sea. 

But  besides  the  two  great  rivers,  the  Indus  and  the 
Ganges — in  Sanskrit  the  Ganga,  literally  the  Go-go — we 
have  the  smaller  rivers,  and  many  of  their  names  also 
agree  with  the  names  preserved  to  us  by  the  companions 
of  Alexander.* 

The  Yamuna,  the  Jumna,  was  known  to  Ptolemy  as 
A haiiovva,-f  to  Pliny  as  Jomanes,  to  Arrian,  somewhat 
corrupted,  as  Jbbares.J 

The  Autudri,  or,  as  it  was  afterward  called,  Yatadru, 
meaning  “ running  in  a hundred  streams,”  was  known 
to  Ptolemy  as  Z adapting  or  Z dpadpog  ; Pliny  called  it 
Sydrus  ; and  Megasthenes,  too,  was  probably  acquainted 

* The  history  of  these  names  has  been  treated  by  Professor  Lassen, 
in  his  “ Indische  Alterthumskunde,”  and  more  lately  by  Professor 
Kaegi,  in  his  very  careful  essay,  “Der  Rig-Veda,”  pp.  146,  147. 
f Ptol.  vii.  1,  29.  t Arrian,  Indica,  viii.  5. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  TnE  VEDA. 


191 


with  it  as  Z aSdpSpg.  In  the  Veda*  it  formed  with 
the  Vi  pas  the  frontier  of  the  Punjab,  and  we  hear  of 
fierce  battles  fought  at  that  time,  it  may  be  on  the  same 
spot  where  in  1846  the  battle  of  the  Sntledge  was  fought 
by  Sir  Hugh  Gough  and  Sir  Henry  Hardinge.  It  was 
probably  on  the  Vipas  (later  Vipasa),  a north-western 
tributary  of  the  Sutledge,  that  Alexander’s  army  turned 
back.  The  river  was  then  called  Hyphasis  ; Pliny  calls 
it  IlypasiSjt  a very  fair  approximation  to  the  Vedic 
Vipas,  which  means  “unfettered.”  Its  modern  name 
is  Bias  or  Bejah. 

The  next  river  on  the  west  is  the  Vedic  Paruslim, 
better  known  as  Iravati,  j;  which  Strabo  calls  Hyarotis, 
while  Arrian  gives  it  a more  Greek  appearance  by  calling 
it  Ilydraotes.  It  is  the  modern  Rawi.  It  was  this 
river  which  the  Ten  Kings  when  attacking  the  Trffsus 
under  Sudas  tried  to  cross  from  the  west  by  cutting  off 
its  water.  But  their  stratagem  failed,  and  they  perished 
in  the  river  (Rig- Veda  VII.  18,  8-9). 

We  then  come  to  the  Asikni,  which  means  “ black.” 
That  river  had  another  name  also,  Aandrabhaga,  which 
means  £ £ streak  of  the  moon.”  The  Greeks,  however, 
pronounced  that  Zavdapo^dyog,  and  this  had  the  unlucky 
meaning  of  £ £ the  devourer  of  Alexander.”  Ilesychius 
tells  us  that  in  order  to  avert  the  bad  omen  Alexander 

* Rig-Veda  III,  33,  1 : “From  the  lap  of  the  mountains  Yipas  and 
Sutudri  rush  forth  with  their  water  like  two  lusty  mares  neighing, 
freed  from  their  tethers,  like  two  bright  mother-cows  licking  (their 
calf). 

“ Ordered  by  Indra  and  waiting  his  bidding  you  run  toward  the  sea 
like  two  charioteers  ; running  together,  as  your  waters  rise,  the  one 
goes  into  the  other,  you  bright  ones.” 

•(•  Other  classical  names  are  Hypanis,  Bipasis,  and  Bibasis.  Yaska 
identifies  it  with  the  Argikiya. 

t Cf.  Nirukta  IX.  26. 


192 


LECTURE  Y. 


changed  the  name  of  that  river  into  ’A keolvt)5,  which 
would  mean  “the  Healer;”  but  he  does  not  tell,  what 
the  Yeda  tells  ns,  that  this  name  ’AKeaivrjg  was  a Greek 
adaptation  of  another  name  of  the  same  river,  namely 
Asikni,  which  had  evidently  supplied  to  Alexander  the 
idea  of  calling  the  Asikni  ’A ksolvtis.  It  is  the  modern 
Chinab. 

Next  to  the  Akesines  we  have  the  Yedic  Yitasta,  the 
last  of  the  rivers  of  the  Punjab,  changed  in  Greek  into 
Hydaspes.  It  was  to  this  river  that  Alexander  retired, 
before  sending  his  fleet  down  the  Indus  and  leading  his 
army  back  to  Babylon.  It  is  the  modern  Behat  or 
Jilam. 

1 could  identify  still  more  of  these  Yedic  rivers,  such 
as,  for  instance,  the  Kubha,  the  Greek  Cophen,  the 
modern  Kabul  river  ;*  but  the  names  which  I have 

* “ The  first  tributaries  which  join  the  Indus  before  its  meeting 
with  the  Kubha  or  the  Kabul  river  cannot  be  determined.  All  trav- 
ellers in  these  northern  countries  complain  of  the  continual  changes 
in  the  names  of  the  rivers,  and  we  can  hardly  hope  to  find  traces  of 
the  Vedic  names  in  existence  there  after  the  lapse  of  three  or  four 
thousand  years.  The  rivers  intended  may  be  the  Shauyook,  Ladak, 
Abba  Seen,  and  Burrindu,  and  one  of  the  four  rivers,  the  Rasa,  has 
assumed  an  almost  fabulous  character  in  the  Veda.  After  the  Indus 
has  joined  the  Kubha  or  the  Kabul  river,  two  names  occur,  the  Go- 
mati  and  Krumu,  which  I believe  I was  the  first  to  identify  with  the 
modern  rivers  the  Gomal  and  Kurrum.  (Roth,  Nirukta,  Erlauterun- 
gen,  p.  43,  Anm.)  The  Gomal  falls  into  the  Indus,  between  Dera 
Ismael  Khan  and  Paharpore,  and  although  Elphinstone  calls  it  a river 
only  during  the  rainy  season,  Klaproth  (Foe-koue-ki,  p.  23)  describes 
its  upper  course  as  far  more  considerable,  and  adds  : ‘Un  peu  a l’est 
de  Sirmagha,  le  Gomal  traverse  la  cliaine  de  montagnes  de  Soliman, 
passe  devant  Raghzi,  et  fertilise  le  pays  habit e par  les  tribus  de 
Dauletkhail  et  de  Gandehpour.  II  se  dess&che  au  defile  de  Pezou,  et 
son  lit  ne  se  remplit  plus  d’eau  que  dans  la  saison  des  pluies  ; alors 
seulement  il  rejoint  la  droite  de  V Indus,  au  sud-est  de  bourg  de  Pahar- 
pour.’  The  Kurrum  falls  into  the  Indus  north  of  the  Gomal,  while, 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  VEDA. 


193 


traced  from  the  Yeda  to  Alexander,  and  in  many  cases 
from  Alexander  again  to  our  own  time,  seem  to  me 
sufficient  to  impress  upon  us  the  real  and  historical 
character  of  the  Yeda.  Suppose  the  Yeda  were  a 
forgery — suppose  at  least  that  it  had  been  put  together 
after  the  time  of  Alexander — how  could  we  explain 
these  names  ? They  are  names  that  have  mostly  a 
meaning  in  Sanskrit,  they  are  names  corresponding  very 
closely  to  their  Greek  corruptions,  as  pronounced  and 
written  down  by  people  who  did  not  know  Sanskrit. 
How  is  a forgery  possible  here  ? 

I selected  this  hymn  for  two  reasons.  First,  because 
it  shows  us  the  widest  geographical  horizon  of  the  Ycdic 
poets,  confined  by  the  snowy  mountains  in  the  north, 
the  Indus  and  the  range  of  the  Suleiman  mountains  in 
the  west,  the  Indus  or  the  seas  in  the  south,  and  the 
valley  of  the  Jumna  and  Ganges  in  the  east.  Beyond 
that,  the  world,  though  open,  was  unknown  to  the 
Yedic  poets.  Secondly,  because  the  same  hymn  gives 
us  also  a kind  of  historical  background  to  the  Y edic 
age.  These  rivers,  as  we  may  see  them  to-day,  as  they 
were  seen  by  Alexander  and  his  Macedonians,  were  seen 
also  by  the  Yedic  poets.  Here  we  have  an  historical 
continuity— almost  living  witnesses,  to  tell  us  that  the 
people  whose  songs  have  been  so  strangely,  ay,  you 
may  almost  say,  so  miraculously  preserved  to  us,  were 
real  people,  lairds  with  their  clans,  priests,  or  rather, 

according  to  the  poet,  we  should  expect  it  south.  It  might  he  urged 
that  poets  are  not  bound  by  the  same  rules  as  geographers,  as  we  see, 
for  instance,  in  the  verse  immediately  preceding.  But  if  it  should 
be  taken  as  a serious  objection,  it  will  be  better  to  give  up  the  Gomati 
than  the  Krumu,  the  latter  being  the  larger  of  the  two,  and  we  might 
then  take  Gomati,  ‘rich  in  cattle,’  as  an  adjective  belonging  to 
Krumu.”— From  a review  of  General  Cunningham’s  “Ancient  Geog- 
raphy of  India,”  in  Nature,  1871,  Sept.  14. 


194 


LECTURE  V. 


servants  of  their  gods,  shepherds  with  their  flocks,  dotted 
about,  on  the  hills  and  valleys,  with  inclosures  or  palisades 
here  and  there,  with  a few  strongholds,  too,  in  case  of 
need — living  their  short  life  on  earth,  as  at  that  time 
life  might  he  lived  by  men,  without  much  pushing  and 
crowding  and  trampling  on  each  other — spring,  sum- 
mer, and  winter  leading  them  on  from  year  to  year, 
and  the  sun  in  his  rising  and  setting  lifting  up  their 
thoughts  from  their  meadows  and  groves  which  they 
loved,  to  a world  in  the  East,  from  which  they  had 
come,  or  to  a world  in  the  West,  to  which  they  were 
gladly  hastening  on.  They  had  what  1 call  religion, 
though  it  was  very  simple,  and  hardly  reduced  as  yet  to 
the  form  of  a creed.  “ There  is  a Beyond,”  that  was 
all  they  felt  and  knew,  though  they  tried,  as  well  as 
they  could,  to  give  names  to  that  Beyond,  and  thus  to 
change  religion  into  a religion.  They  had  not  as  yet  a 
name  for  God — certainly  not  in  our  sense  of  the  word — 
or  even  a general  name  for  the  gods  ; but  they  invented 
name  after  name  to  enable  them  to  grasp  and  com- 
prehend by  some  outward  and  visible  tokens  powers 
whose  presence  they  felt  in  nature,  though  their  true 
and  full  essence  was  to  them,  as  it  is  to  us,  invisible  and 
incomprehensible. 


LECTURE  VI. 


VEDIC  DEITIES. 

The  next  important  phenomenon  of  nature  which  was 
represented  in  the  Veda  as  a terrestrial  deity  is  Fire,  in 
Sanskrit  Agni,  in  Latin  ignis.  In  the  worship  which  is 
paid  to  the  Fire  and  in  the  high  praises  bestowed  on 
Agni  we  can  cleai’ly  perceive  the  traces  of  a period  in 
the  history  of  man  in  which  not  only  the  most  essential 
comforts  of  life,  but  life  itself,  depended  on  the  knowl- 
edge of  producing  fire.  To  us  fire  has  become  so 
familiar  that  we  can  hardly  form  an  idea  of  what  life 
would  be  without  it.  But  how  did  the  ancient  dwellers 
on  earth  get  command  and  possession  of  fire  ? The 
Vedic  poets  tell  us  that  fire  first  came  to  them  from  the 
sky,  in  the  form  of  lightning,  but  that  it  disappeared 
again,  and  that  then  Matarisvan,  a being  to  a certain 
extent  like  Prometheus,  brought  it  back  and  confided  it 
to  the  safe  keeping  of  the  clan  of  the  Bhrfgus  (Phleg- 
yas).* 

In  other  poems  we  hear  of  the  mystery  of  fire  being 
produced  by  rubbing  pieces  of  wood  ; and  here  it  is  a 
curious  fact  that  the  name  of  the  wood  thus  used  for 
rubbing  is  in  Sanskrit  Pramantha,  a word  which,  as 
Kuhn  has  shown,  would  in  Greek  come  very  near  to  the 
name  of  Prometheus.  The  possession  of  fire,  whether 
by  preserving  it  as  sacred  on  the  hearth,  or  by  producing 
it  at  pleasure  with  the  fire-drill,  represents  an  enormous 

* Muir,  iv.  p.  209 


196 


LECTURE  VI. 


step  in  early  civilization.  It  enabled  people  to  cook 
their  meat  instead  of  eating  it  raw  ; it  gave  them  the 
power  of  carrying  on  their  work  by  night ; and  in  colder 
climates  it  really  preserved  them  from  being  frozen  to 
death.  No  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  fire  should  have 
been  praised  and  worshipped  as  the  best  and  kindest  of 
gods,  the  only  god  who  had  come  down  from  heaven  to 
live  on  earth,  the  friend  of  man,  the  messenger  of  the 
gods,  the  mediator  between  gods  and  men,  the  immortal 
among  mortals.  He,  it  is  said,  protects  the  settlements 
of  the  Aryans,  and  frightens  away  the  black-skinned 
enemies. 

Soon,  however,  fire  was  conceived  by  the  Vedic  poets 
under  the  more  general  character  of  light  and  warmth, 
and  then  the  presence  of  Agni  was  perceived,  not  only 
on  the  hearth  and  the  altar,  but  in  the  Dawn,  in  the 
Sun,  and  in  the  world  beyond  the  Sun,  while  at  the 
same  time  his  power  was  recognized  as  ripening,  or  as 
they  called  it,  as  cooking,  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  and  as 
supporting  also  the  warmth  and  the  life  of  the  human 
body.  From  that  point  of  view  Agni,  like  other  powers, 
rose  to  the  rank  of  a Supreme  God.*  He  is  said  to 
have  stretched  out  heaven  and  earth — naturally,  because 
without  his  light  heaven  and  earth  would  have  been  in- 
visible and  undistinguishable.  The  next  poet  says  that 
Agni  held  heaven  aloft  by  his  light,  that  he  kept  the 
two  worlds  asunder  ; and  in  the  end  Agni  is  said  to  be 
the  progenitor  and  father  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  the 
maker  of  all  that  flies,  or  walks,  or  stands,  or  moves  on 
earth. 

Here  we  have  once  more  the  same  process  before  our 
eyes.  The  human  mind  begins  with  being  startled  by 
a single  or  repeated  event,  such  as  the  lightning  striking 
* Muir,  iv.  p.  214. 


YEDIC  DEITIES. 


197 


a tree  and  devouring  a whole  forest,  or  a spark  of  fire 
breaking  forth  from  wood  being  rubbed  against  wood, 
whether  in  a forest,  or  in  the  wheel  of  a carriage,  or  at 
last  in  afire-drill,  devised  on  purpose.  Man  then  begins 
to  wonder  at  what  to  him  is  a miracle,  none  the  less  so 
because  it  is  a fact,  a simple,  natural  fact.  lie  sees  the 
effects  of  a power,  but  he  can  only  guess  at  its  cause, 
and  if  he  is  to  speak  of  it,  he  can  only  do  so  by  speaking 
of  it  as  an  agent,  or  as  something  like  a human  agent, 
and,  if  in  some  respects  not  quite  human,  in  others  more 
than  human  or  superhuman.  Thus  the  concept  of  Fire 
grew  ; and  while  it  became  more  and  more  generalized, 
it  also  became  more  sublime,  more  incomprehensible, 
more  divine.  Without  Agni,  without  fire,  light,  and 
warmth,  life  would  have  been  impossible.  Hence  he 
became  the  author  and  giver  of  life,  of  the  life  of  plants 
and  animals  and  of  men  ; and  his  favor  having  once 
been  implored  for  “ light  and  life  and  all  things,”  what 
wonder  that  in  the  minds  of  some  poets,  and  in  the 
traditions  of  this  or  that  village-community  he  should 
have  been  raised  to  the  rank  of  a supreme  ruler,  a god 
above  all  gods,  their  own  true  god  ! 

We  now  proceed  to  consider  the  powers  which  the 
ancient  poets  might  have  discovered  in  the  air,  in  the 
clouds,  and,  more  particularly,  in  those  meteoric  con- 
flicts which  by  thunder,  lightning,  darkness,  storms,  and 
showers  of  rain  must  have  taught  man  that  very  im- 
portant lesson  that  he  was  not  alone  in  this  world. 
Many  philosophers,  as  you  know,  believe  that  all  religion 
arose  from  fear  or  terror,  and  that  without  thunder  and 
lightning  to  teach  us,  we  should  never  have  believed  in 
any  gods  or  god.  This  is  a one-sided  a,nd  exaggerated 
view.  Thunderstorms,  no  doubt,  had  a large  share  in 


198 


LECTURE  VI. 


arousing  feelings  of  awe  and  terror,  and  in  making  man 
conscious  of  his  weakness  and  dependence.  Even  in  the 
Yeda,  Indra  is  introduced  as  saying:  “ Yes,  when  I 
send  thunder  and  lightning,  then  you  believe  in  me.” 
But  what  we  call  religion  would  never  have  sprung  from 
fear  and  terror  alone.  Religion  is  trust , and  that  trust 
arose  in  the  beginning  from  the  impressions  made  on  the 
mind  and  heart  of  man  by  the  order  and  wisdom  of 
nature,  and  more  particularly  by  those  regularly  re- 
curring events,  the  return  of  the  sun,  the  revival  of  the 
moon,  the  order  of  the  seasons,  the  law  of  cause  and 
effect,  gradually  discovered  in  all  things,  and  traced 
back  in  the  end  to  a cause  of  all  causes,  by  wdiatever 
name  we  choose  to  call  it. 

Still  the  meteoric  phenomena  had,  no  doubt,  their 
important  share  in  the  production  of  ancient  deities  ; 
and  in  the  poems  of  the  Yedic  Rishis  they  naturally 
occupy  a very  prominent  place.  If  we  were  asked  who 
was  the  principal  god  of  the  Yedic  period,  we  should 
probably,  judging  from  the  remains  of  that  poetry  which 
we  possess,  say  it  was  Indra,  the  god  of  the  blue  sky, 
the  Indian  Zeus,  the  gatherer  of  the  clouds,  the  giver 
of  rain,  the  wielder  of  the  thunderbolt,  the  conqueror  of 
darkness,  and  of  all  the  powers  of  darkness,  the  bringer 
of  light,  the  source  of  freshness,  vigor,  and  life,  the 
ruler  and  lord  of  the  whole  world.  Indra  is  this,  and 
much  more  in  the  Yeda.  lie  is  supreme  in  the  hymns 
of  many  poets,  and  may  have  been  so  in  the  prayers 
addressed  to  him  by  many  of  the  ancient  septs  or  village 
communities  in  India.  Compared  with  him  the  other 
gods  are  said  to  be  decrepit  old  men.  Heaven,  the  old 
Heaven  or  Dyaus,  formerly  the  father  of  all  the  gods, 
nay  the  father  of  Indra  himself,  bows  before  him,  and 
the  Earth  trembles  at  his  approach.  Yet  Indra  never 


VEDIC  DEITIES. 


109 


commanded  the  permanent  allegiance  of  all  the  other 
gods,  like  Zeus  and  Jupiter  ; nay,  we  know  from  the 
Yeda  itself  that  there  were  skeptics,  even  at  that  early 
time,  who  denied  that  there  was  any  such  thing  as 
In  dr  a.* 

By  the  side  of  Indra,  and  associated  with  him  in  his 
battles,  and  sometimes  hardly  distinguishable  from  him, 
we  find  the  representatives  of  the  wind,  called  Vata  or 
Yayu,  and  the  more  terrible  storm-gods,  the  Maruts, 
literally  the  Smashers. 

When  speaking  of  the  Wind,  a poet  says  :f  “ Where 
was  he  born  ? Whence  did  he  spring  ? the  life  of  the 
gods,  the  germ  of  the  world  ! That  god  moves  about 
where  he  listetli,  his  voices  are  heard,  but  he  is  not  to  be 
seen.  ” 

The  Maruts  are  more  terrible  than  Yata,  the  wind. 
They  are  clearly  the  representatives  of  such  storms  as 
are  known  in  India,  when  the  air  is  darkened  by  dust 
and  clouds,  when  in  a moment  the  trees  are  stripped  of 
their  foliage,  their  branches  shivered,  their  stems  snap- 
ped, when  the  earth  seems  to  reel  and  the  mountains 
to  shake,  and  the  rivers  are  lashed  into  foam  and  fury. 
Then  the  poet  sees  the  Maruts  approaching  with  golden 
helmets,  with  spotted  skins  on  their  shoulders,  brandish- 
ing golden  spears,  whirling  their  axes,  shooting  fiery 
arrows,  and  cracking  their  whips  amid  thunder  and  light- 
ning. They  are  the  comrades  of  Indra,  sometimes,  like 
Indra,  the  sons  of  Dyaus  or  the  sky,  but  also  the  sons 
of  another  terrible  god,  called  Rudra,  or  the  Howler,  a 
lighting  god,  to  whom  many  hymns  arc  addressed.  In 
him  a new  character  is  evolved,  that  of  a healer  and 
saviour — a very  natural  transition  in  India,  where  noth- 
ing is  so  powerful  for  dispelling  miasmas,  restoring 
* Hibbert  Lectures,  p.  307.  f X.  1G8,  3,  4. 


200 


LECTURE  TI. 


health,  and  imparting  fresh  vigor  to  man  and  beast,  as 
a thunderstorm,  following  after  weeks  of  heat  and 
drought. 

All  these  and  several  others,  such  as  Paryanya  and  the 
Ah'bhus,  are  the  gods  of  mid-air,  the  most  active  and 
dramatic  gods,  ever  present  to  the  fancy  of  the  ancient 
poets,  and  in  several  cases  the  prototypes  of  later  heroes, 
celebrated  in  the  epic  poems  of  India.  In  battles,  more 
particularly,  these  fighting  gods  of  the  sky  were  con- 
stant^ invoked.*  Indra  is  the  leader  in  battles,  the 
protector  of  the  bright  Aryans,  the  destroyer  of  the 
black  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  India.  “ He  has  thrown 
down  fifty  thousand  black  fellows,”  the  poet  says,  “ and 
their  strongholds  crumbled  away  like  an  old  rag.” 
Strange  to  say,  Indra  is  praised  for  having  saved  his 
people  from  their  enemies,  much  as  Jehovah  was  praised 
by  the  Jewish  prophets.  Thus  we  read  in  one  hymn 
that  when  Sudas,  the  pious  king  of  the  T/dtsus,  was 
pressed  hard  in  his  battle  with  the  ten  kings,  Indra 
changed  the  flood  into  an  easy  ford,  and  thus  saved 
Sudas. 

In  another  hymn  we  read  :f  “ Thou  hast  restrained 
the  great  river  for  the  sake  of  Turviti  Vayya  : the  flood 
moved  in  obedience  to  thee,  and  thou  madest  the  rivers 
easy  to  cross.”  This  is  not  very  diiferent  from  the 
Psalmist  (7S  : 13)  : “ He  divided  the  sea,  and  caused 
them  to  pass  through  ; and  he  made  the  waters  to  stand 
as  an  heap.  ’ ’ 

And  there  are  other  passages  which  have  reminded 
some  students  of  the  Yeda  of  Joshua’s  battle,:}:  when 
the  sun  stood  still  and  the  moon  stayed,  until  the  people 
had  avenged  themselves  upon  their  enemies.  For  we 

* See  Kaegi,  Eig-Veda,  p.  61. 

f Eig-Veda  II.  13,  12  ; IV.  19,  6.  J Joshua  x.  13, 


VEDIC  DEITIES. 


201 


read  in  the  Veda  also,  as  Professor  Kaegi  has  pointed 
out  (1.  c.  p.  63),  that  “ Indra  lengthened  the  days  into 
the  night,”  and  that  “the  Sun  unharnessed  its  chariot 
in  the  middle  of  the  day.”* 

In  some  of  the  hymns  addressed  to  Indra  his  original 
connection  with  the  sky  and  the  thunderstorm  seems 
quite  forgotten.  He  has  become  a spiritual  god,  the 
only  king  of  all  worlds  and  all  people, f who  sees  and 
hears  everything,  % nay,  who  inspires  men  with  their  best 
thoughts.  ISTo  one  is  equal  to  him,  no  one  excels  him. 

The  name  of  Indra  is  peculiar  to  India,  and  must  have 
been  formed  after  the  separation  of  the  great  Aryan 
family  had  taken  place,  for  we  find  it  neither  in  Greek, 
nor  in  Latin,  nor  in  German.  There  are  Vedic  gods,  as 
I mentioned  before,  whose  names  must  have  been  framed 
before  that  separation,  and  which  occur  therefore, 
though  greatly  modified  in  character,  sometimes  in 
Greek,  sometimes  in  Latin,  sometimes  in  the  Celtic, 
Teutonic,  and  Slavonic  dialects.  Dyau s,  for  instance, 
is  the  same  word  as  Zeus  or  Ju-piter,  U s li  a s is  Eos, 
ISTakta  is  Nyx,  Surya  is  Helios,  Agni  is  ignis, 
B h a g a is  Baga  in  Old  Persian,  B o g u in  Old  Slavonic, 
V arinia  is  Uranos,  A7  ata  is  Wotan,  Va  & is  vox,  and 
in  the  name  of  the  Maruts , or  the  storm-gods,  the  germs 
of  the  Italic  god  of  war,  Mars,  have  been  discovered. 
Besides  these  direct  coincidences,  some  indirect  relations 
have  been  established  between  Hermes  and  Sara  m e y a, 
Dionysos  and  D y u n i s y a,  Prometheus  and  p r a in  a n- 
t h a,  Orpheus  and  R i b h u,  Erinnys  and  S a r a n y u, 
Pan  and  P a v a n a.§ 

* Rig- Veda  IV.  30,  3 ; X.  138,  3. 

f L.  c.  VIII.  37,  3.  t L.  c.  VIII.  78,  5. 

§ I am  very  strongly  inclined  to  regard  these  names  as  Kushite  or 
Semitic  ; Hermes,  from  Din-  the  Snn  ; Dionysos,  from  dyan,  the 


202 


LECTURE  VI. 


But  while  the  name  of  Indra  as  the  god  of  the  sky, 
also  as  the  god  of  the  thunderstorm,  and  the  giver  of 
rain,  is  unknown  among  the  north-western  members  of 
the  Aryan  family,  the  name  of  another  god  who  some- 
times acts  the  part  of  Indra  (Indra A Paryanyatma),  but 
is  much  less  prominent  in  the  Yeda,  I mean  Paryanya, 
must  have  existed  before  that  of  Indra,  because  two  at 
least  of  the  Aryan  languages  have  carried  it,  as  we  shall 
see,  to  Germany,  and  to  the  very  shores  of  the  Baltic. 

Sometimes  this  Paryanya  stands  in  the  place  of  Dyaus, 
the  sky.  Thus  we  read  in  the  Atliarva- Yeda,  XII.  1, 
12  :*  “ The  Earth  is  the  mother,  and  I am  the  son  of  the 
Earth.  Paryanya  is  the  father  ; may  he  help  us  !’  ’ 

In  another  place  (XII.  1,  42)  the  Earth,  instead  of 
being  the  wife  of  Heaven  or  Dyaus,  is  called  the  wife  of 
Paryanya. 

X ow  who  or  what  is  this  Paryanya  ? There  have  been 
long  controversies  about  him,f  as  to  whether  he  is  the 
same  as  Dyaus,  Heaven,  or  the  same  as  Indra,  the  suc- 
cessor of  Dyaus,  whether  he  is  the  god  of  the  sky,  of 
the  cloud,  or  of  the  rain. 

To  me  it  seems  that  this  very  expression,  god  of  the 
sky,  god  of  the  cloud,  is  so  entire  an  anachronism  that 
we  could  not  even  translate  it  into  Yedic  Sanskrit  with- 
out committing  a solecism.  It  is  true,  no  doubt,  we 
must  use  our  modern  ways  of  speaking  when  we  wish  to 
represent  the  thoughts  of  the  ancient  world  ; but  we 
cannot  be  too  much  on  our  guard  against  accepting  the 
dictionary  representative  of  an  ancient  word  for  its  real 

judge,  and  nisi,  mankind  ; Orpheus,  from  Orfa,  the  Arabic  name  of 
Edessa  ; Prometheus,  from  pro  and  manthano,  to  learn. — A.  W. 

* Muir,  iv.  p.  23. 

4 Ibid.  p.  142.  An  excellent  paper  on  Paryanya  was  published  by 
Biihler  in  1862,  “Orient  und  Occident,”  vol.  i.  p.  214. 


VEDIC  DEITIES. 


203 


counterpart.  D e v a,  no  doubt,  means  ‘ ‘gods ’ 5 and  ‘ ‘god,  ’ ’ 
and  P a r y a n y a means  ‘ ‘ cloud,  ’ ’ but  no  one  could  say  in 
Sanskrit  paryanyasya  deva/i,  “the  god  of  tlie 
cloud.  ” The  god,  or  tlie  divine,  or  transcendental  element, 
does  not  come  from  without,  to  be  added  to  the  cloud  or 
to  the  sky  or  to  the  earth,  but  it  springs  from  the  cloud 
and  the  sky  and  the  earth,  and  is  slowly  elaborated  into 
an  independent  concept.  As  many  words  in  ancient 
languages  have  an  undefined  meaning,  and  lend  them- 
selves to  various  purposes  according  to  the  various 
intentions  of  the  speakers,  the  names  of  the  gods  also 
share  in  this  elastic  and  plastic  character  of  ancient 
speech.  There  are  passages  where  Paryanya  means 
cloud,  there  are  passages  where  it  means  rain.  There 
are  passages  where  Paryanya  takes  the  place  which  else- 
where is  filled  by  Dyaus,  the  sky,  or  by  Indra,  the 
active  god  of  the  atmosphere.  This  may  seem  very 
wrong  and  very  unscientific  to  the  scientific  mytliologist. 
But  it  cannot  be  helped.  It  is  the  nature  of  ancient 
thought  and  ancient  language  to  be  unscientific,  and 
we  must  learn  to  master  it  as  well  as  we  can,  instead  of 
finding  fault  with  it,  and  complaining  that  our  fore- 
fathers did  not  reason  exactly  as  we  do. 

There  are  passages  in  the  Yedic  hymns  where  Paryanya 
appears  as  a supreme  god.  lie  is  called  father,  like 
Dyaus,  the  sky.  He  is  called  asura,  the  living  or  life- 
giving  god,  a name  peculiar  to  the  oldest  and  the  greatest 
gods.  One  poet  says,*  “ He  rules  as  god  over  the 
whole  world  ; all  creatures  rest  in  him  ; he  is  the  life 
(atma)  of  all  that  moves  and  rests.” 

Surely  it  is  difficult  to  say  more  of  a supreme  god  than 
what  is  here  said  of  Paryanya.  Yet  in  other  hymns  he 
is  represented  as  performing  liis  office,  namely  that  of 
* Rig-Veda  VII.  101,  6. 


204 


LECTURE  VI. 


sending  rain  upon  the  earth,  under  the  control  of  Mitra 
and  Yai'ii/i,  who  are  then  considered  as  the  highest  lords, 
the  mightiest  rulers  of  heaven  and  earth.* 

There  are  other  verses,  again,  where  paryanya  occurs 
with  hardly  any  traces  of  personality,  hut  simply  as  a 
name  of  cloud  or  rain. 

Thus  we  read  :f  “ Even  by  day  the  Maruts  (the 
storm-gods)  produce  darkness  with  the  cloud  that  carries 
water,  when  they  moisten  the  earth.”  Here  cloud  is 
paryanya,  and  it  is  evidently  used  as  an  appellative,  and 
not  as  a proper  name.  The  same  word  occurs  in  the 
plural  also,  and  we  read  of  many  paryanyas  or  clouds 
vivifying  the  earth.  \ 

"When  Devapi  prays  for  rain  in  favor  of  his  brother, 
he  says  :§  “ O lord  of  my  prayer  (Brfhaapati),  whether 
thou  be  Mitra  or  Vanina  or  Pushan,  come  to  my  sac- 
rifice ! Whether  thou  be  together  with  the  Adityas, 
the  Vasusor  the  Maruts,  let  the  cloud  (paryanya)  rain  for 
Yantanu.  ” 

And  again  : “ Stir  up  the  rainy  cloud  ” (paryanya). 

In  several  places  it  makes  no  difference  whether  we 
translate  paryanya  by  cloud  or  by  rain,  for  those  who 
pray  for  rain,  pray  for  the  cloud,  and  whatever  may  be 
the  benefits  of  the  rain,  they  may  nearly  all  be  called 
the  benefits  of  the  cloud.  There  is  a curious  hymn,  for 
instance,  addressed  to  the  frogs  who,  at  the  beginning 
of  the  rains,  come  forth  from  the  dry  ponds,  and  em- 
brace each  other  and  chatter  together,  and  whom  the 
poet  compares  to  priests  singing  at  a sacrifice,  a not  very 
complimentary  remark  from  a poet  who  is  himself  sup- 
posed to  have  been  a priest.  Their  voice  is  said  to  have 
been  revived  by  paryanya,  which  we  shall  naturally 

\ L.  c.  I.  164,  51. 

§ L.  c.  X.  98,  1. 


* Rig-Veda  V.  63,  3-6. 
\ Li.  c.  I,  38,  9. 


VEDIC  DEITIES. 


205 


translate  “by  rain,”  though,  no  doubt,  the  poet  may 
have  meant,  for  all  we  know,  either  a cloud,  or  even  the 
god  Paryanya  himself. 

I shall  try  to  translate  one  of  the  hymns  addressed  to 
Paryanya,  when  conceived  as  a god,  or  at  least  as  so 
much  of  a god  as  it  was  possible  to  be  at  that  stage  in 
the  intellectual  growth  of  the  human  race.* 

1.  “ Invoke  the  strong  god  with  these  songs  ! praise 
Paryanya,  worship  him  with  veneration  ! for  he,  the 
roaring  bull,  scattering  drops,  gives  seed-fruit  to 
plants. 

2.  “ lie  cuts  the  trees  asunder,  he  kills  evil  spirits  ; 
the  whole  world  trembles  before  his  mighty  weapon. 
Even  the  guiltless  flees  before  the  powerful,  when 
Paryanya  thundering  strikes  down  the  evil-doers. 

3.  “ Like  a charioteer,  striking  his  horses  with  a whip, 
he  puts  forths  his  messenger  of  rain.  From  afar  arise 
the  roarings  of  the  lion,  when  Paryanya  makes  the  sky 
full  of  rain. 

4.  “The  winds  blow,  the  lightnings f fly,  plants 
spring  up,  the  sky  pours.  Food  is  produced  for  the 
whole  world,  when  Paryanya  blesses  the  earth  with  his 
seed 

5.  “ O Paryanya,  thou  at  whose  work  the  earth  bows 
down,  thou  at  whose  work  hoofed  animals  are  scattered, 
thou  at  whose  work  the  plants  assume  all  forms,  grant 
thou  to  us  thy  great  protection  ! 

6.  “ O,  Maruts,  give  us  the  rain  of  heaven,  make  the 
streams  of  the  strong  horse  run  down  ! And  come  thou 

* Rig-Veda  Y.  83.  See  Biihler,  “ Orient  und  Occident,”  vol.  i.  p. 
214  ; Zimmer,  “ Altindisches  Leben,”  p.  43. 

f Both  Biihler  (“  Orient  und  Occident,”  vol.  i.  p.  224)  and  Zimmer 
(Z.  f.  D.  A.  vii.  p.  169)  say  that  the  lightning  is  represented  as  the 
son  of  Paryanya  in  Rig-Veda  VII.  101,  1.  This  seems  doubtful. 


206 


l/ECTURE  Vt. 


hither  with  thy  thunder,  pouring  out  water,  for  thou 
(O  Paryanya)  art  the  living  god,  thou  art  our  father. 

7.  “ Do  thou  roar,  and  thunder,  and  give  fruitful- 
ness ! Fly  around  us  with  thy  chariot  full  of  water  ! 
Draw  forth  thy  water-skin,  when  it  has  been  opened 
and  turned  downward,  and  let  the  high  and  the  low 
places  become  level  ! 

8.  “ Draw  up  the  large  bucket,  and  pour  it  out  ; let 
the  streams  pour  forth  freely  ! Soak  heaven  and  earth 
with  fatness  ! and  let  there  he  a good  draught  for  the 
cows  ! 

9.  “ O Paryanya,  when  roaring  and  thundering  thou 
killest  the  evil-doers,  then  everything  rejoices,  whatever 
lives  on  earth. 

10.  “ Thou  hast  sent  rain,  stop  now  ! Thou  hast 
made  the  deserts  passable,  thou  hast  made  plants  grow 
for  food,  and  thou  hast  obtained  praise  from  men.” 

This  is  a Yedic  hymn,  and  a very  fair  specimen  of 
what  these  ancient  hymns  are.  There  is  nothing  very 
grand  and  poetical  about  them,  and  yet,  I say,  take 
thousands  and  thousands  of  people  living  in  our  villages, 
and  depending  on  rain  for  their  very  life,  and  not  many 
of  them  will  be  able  to  compose  such  a prayer  for  rain, 
even  though  three  thousand  years  have  passed  over  our 
heads  since  Paryanya  was  first  invoked  in  India.  Nor 
are  these  verses  entirely  without  poetical  conceptions  and 
descriptions.  Whoever  has  watched  a real  thunderstorm 
in  a hot  climate  will  recognize  the  truth  of  those  quick 
sentences  : “ the  winds  blow,  the  lightnings  fly,  plants 
spring  up,  the  hoofed  cattle  are  scattered.”  Nor  is  the 
idea  without  a certain  drastic  reality,  that  Paryanya 
draws  a bucket  of  water  from  his  well  in  heaven,  and 
pours  out  skin  after  skin  (in  which  water  was  then 
carried)  down  upon  the  earth. 


YEDIC  DEITIES. 


207 


There  is  even  a moral  sentiment  perceptible  in  this 
hymn.  “ When  the  storms  roar,  and  the  lightnings  flash 
and  the  rain  pours  down,  even  the  guiltless  trembles, 
and  evildoers  are  struck  down.”  Here  we  clearly  see 
that  the  poet  did  not  look  upon  the  storm  simply  as  an 
outbreak  of  the  violence  of  nature,  but  that  he  had  a 
presentiment  of  a higher  will  and  power  which  even  the 
guiltless  fears  ; for  who,  he  seems  to  say,  is  entirely  free 
from  guilt  ? 

If  now  we  ask  again,  Who  is  Paryanya  ? or  What  is 
Paryanya  ? we  can  answer  that  paryanya  was  meant 
originally  for  the  cloud,  so  far  as  it  gives  rain  ; but  as 
soon  as  the  idea  of  a giver  arose,  the  visible  cloud  became 
the  outward  appearance  only,  or  the  body  of  that  giver, 
and  the  giver  himself  was  somewhere  else,  we  know  not 
where.  In  some  verses  Paryanya  seems  to  step  into  the 
place  of  Dyaus,  the  sky,  and  PWthivi,  the  earth,  is  his 
wife.  In  other  places,*  however,  he  is  the  son  of  Dyaus 
or  the  sky,  though  no  thought  is  given  in  that  early 
stage  to  the  fact  that  thus  Paryanya  might  seem  to  be 
the  husband  of  his  mother.  We  saw  that  even  the  idea 
of  Indra  being  the  father  of  his  own  father  did  not 
startle  the  ancient  poets  beyond  an  exclamation  that  it 
was  a very  wonderful  thing  indeed. 

Sometimes  Paryanya  does  the  work  of  Indra, f the 
Jupiter  Pluvius  of  the  Veda  ; sometimes  of  Vayu,  the 
wind,  sometimes  of  Soma,  the  giver  of  rain.  Yet  with 
all  this  he  is  not  Dyaus,  nor  Indra,  nor  the  Maruts,  nor 
Vayu,  nor  Soma.  lie  stands  by  himself,  a separate 
person,  a separate  god,  as  we  should  say — nay,  one  of 
the  oldest  of  all  the  Aryan  gods. 

His  name,  paryanya,  is  derived  from  a root  pary, 


* Kig-Veda  VII.  102,  1. 


f L.  c.  VIII.  6,  1. 


208 


LECTURE  VI. 


which,  like  its  parallel  forms  pars  and  parsh,  must  (1 
think)  have  had  the  meaning  of  sprinkling,  irrigating, 
moistening.  An  interchange  between  final  y , s,  and  sli, 
may,  no  doubt,  seem  unusual,  but  it  is  not  without  parallel 
in  Sanskrit.  We  have,  for  instance,  the  roots  p mg,  pin- 
gere  ; pish,  to  nib  ; pis,  to  adorn  (as  in  pesas,  t wudXog, 
etc.)  ; m rig,  to  rub,  mWsh,  to  rub  out,  to  forget ; urn's, 

mulcere.  _ 

This  very  root  m rig  forms  its  participle  as  mmh-ta, 
hke  va y,  islha,  and  vis,  vishfo  ; nay  there  are  roots,  such 
as  dr uli,  which  optionally  take  a final  hngual  or  guttural, 
such  as  dliru^  and  dliruk.* 

We  may  therefore  compare  par g in  paryanya  with 
such  words  as  pWshata,  prnhati,  speckled,  drop  of 
water  ;f  also  parsu,  cloud,  pmni,  speckled,  cloud,  eart  , 
and  in  Greek  tt po£(o),  neptivoq,  etc4 

If  derived  from  pary,  to  sprinkle,  Paryanya  would 
have  meant  originally  “ he  who  irrigates  or  gives  rain.”  § 

When  the  different  members  of  the  Aryan  family 
dispersed,  they  might  all  of  them,  Hindus  as  well  as 
Greeks  and  Celts,  and  Teutons  and  Slaves,  have  carried 
that  name  for  cloud  with  them.  But  you  know  that  it 
happened  very  often  that  out  of  the  commonwealth  ot 
their  ancient  language,  one  and  the  same  word  was 
preserved,  as  the  case  might  be,  not  by  all,  but  by  only 
six,  or  five,  or  four,  or  three,  or  two,  or  even  by  one 


* See  Max  Muller,  Sanskrit  Grammar,  § 174,  10. 

+ Cf  Gobli.  Grihya  S.  HI.  3,  15,  vidynt-stanayitnu-prisbitesbu. 

t Uggvaladatta,  in  bis  commentary  on  the  Unadi-sfttras  m.  103, 
admits  the  same  transition  of  sh  into  g in  the  verb  pnsh,  as  the  ety- 
mon of  parganya.  . , . „ ; 

8 for  different  etymologies,  see  BiiMer,  “ Orient  nnd  Occident,  i. 
p,  214  , Muir,  “ Origin.l  Sanskrit  Tents,"  p.  14«  ; Gr.ssni.nn.in 
lie  Dictionary  to  the  Eig-Veda,  a.  v.;  Zimmer,  Zeitscnft  fur 
Deutsches  Alterthum,  Neue  Folge,’  vii.  p.  164. 


VEDIC  DEITIES. 


209 


only  of  the  seven  principal  heirs  ; and  yet,  as  we  know 
that  there  was  no  historical  contact  between  them,  after 
they  had  once  parted  from  each  other,  long  before  the 
beginning  of  what  we  call  history,  the  fact  that  two  of 
the  Aryan  languages  have  preserved  the  same  finished 
word  with  the  same  finished  meaning,  is  proof  sufficient 
that  it  belonged  to  the  most  ancient  treasure  of  Aryan 
thought. 

Now  there  is  no  trace,  at  least  no  very  clear  trace,  of 
Paryanya,  in  Greek,  or  Latin,  or  Celtic,  or  even  in 
Teutonic.  In  Slavonic,  too,  we  look  in  vain,  till  we 
come  to  that  almost  forgotten  side-branch  called  the 
Lettic,  comprising  the  spoken  Lituanian  and  Lettish , 
and  the  now  extinct  Old  Prussia/n.  Lituania  is  no 
longer  an  independent  state,  but  it  was  once,  not  more 
than  six  centuries  ago,  a Grand  Duchy,  independent 
both  of  Russia  and  Poland.  Its  first  Grand  Duke  was 
Ringold,  who  ruled  from  1235,  and  his  successors  made 
successful  conquests  against  the  Russians.  In  1368  these 
grand  dukes  became  kings  of  Poland,  and  in  1569  the 
two  countries  were  united.  When  Poland  was  divided 
between  Russia  and  Prussia,  part  of  Lituania  fell  to  the 
former,  part  to  the  latter.  There  are  still  about  one 
million  and  a half  of  people  who  speak  Lituanian  in 
Russia  and  Prussia,  while  Lettish  is  spoken  by  about 
one  million  in  Curland  and  Livonia. 

The  Lituanian  language  even  as  it  is  now  spoken  by 
die  common  people,  contains  some  extremely  primitive 
grammatical  forms — in  some  cases  almost  identical  with 
Sanskrit.  These  forms  are  all  the  more  curious,  because 
they  are  but  few  in  number,  and  the  rest  of  the  language 
has  suffered  much  from  the  wear  and  tear  of  centuries. 

Now  in  that  remote  Lituanian  language  we  find  that 
our  old  friend  Paryanya  has  taken  refuge.  There  he 


210 


LECTURE  VI. 


lives  to  the  present  day,  while  even  in  India  he  is  almost 
forgotten,  at  least  in  the  spoken  languages  ; and  there, 
in  Lituania,  not  many  centuries  back  might  be  heard 
among  a Christianized  or  nearly  Christianized  people, 
prayers  for  rain,  not  very  different  from  that  which  I 
translated  to  you  from  the  Rig- Y eda.  In  Lituanian  the 
god  of  thunder  was  called  Perkunas ,*  and  the  same 
word  is  still  used  in  the  sense  of  thunder.  In  Old 
Prussian,  thunder  was  percunos,  and  in  Lettish  to  the 
present  day  perkons  is  thunder,  god  of  thunder,  f 

It  was,  I believe,  Grimm  who  for  the  first  time 
identified  the  Yedic  P ary  any  a with  the  Old  Slavonic 
Perun,  the  Polish  Piorun,  the  Bohemian  Peraun.  These 
words  had  formerly  been  derived  by  Dobrovsky  and 
others  from  the  root  peru,  I strike.  Grimm  (“  Teutonic 
Mythology,”  Engl,  transl.,  p.  171)  showed  that  the 
fuller  forms  Perkunas,  Pehrkons,  and  Perkunos  existed 
in  Lituanian,  Lettish,  Old  Prussian,  and  that  even  the 
Mordvinians  had  adopted  the  name  Porguini  as  that  of 
their  thunder-god. 

Simon  Grunau,  who  finished  his  chronicle  in  1521, 
speaks  of  three  gods,  as  worshipped  by  the  Old  Prus- 
sians, Patollo,  Patrimpo,  and  Perkuno,  and  he  states 
that  Perkuno  was  invoked  “ for  storm’s  sake,  that  they 
might  have  rain  and  fair  weather  at  the  proper  time, 
and  thunder  and  lightning  should  not  injure  them.”:}: 

* In  order  to  identify  Perkunas  with  Paiv/anva,  we  must  go  an- 
other step  backward,  and  look  upon  g or  g,  in  the  root  parg,  as  a 
weakening  of  an  original  k in  park.  This,  however,  is  a frequent 
phonetic  process.  See  Biihler,  in  Benfey’s  “ Orient  und  Occident,” 
ii.  p.  717. 

I Lituanian  perkun-kulke,  thunder-bolt,  perkuno  gaisis,  storm. 
See  Voelkel,  “Die  lettischen  Sprachreste, ” 1879,  p.  23. 

\ ‘‘  Perkuno,  war  der  dritte  Abgott  und  man  ihn  anruffte  urn’s  Ge- 
witters  willen,  damit  sie  ltegen  batten  und  schon  wetter  zu  seiner 


V 13  DIC  DEITIES. 


211 


The  following  Lituanian  prayer  lias  been  preserved  to 
ns  by  Lasitzki  :* 

“ Cheek  thyself,  O Percnna,  and  do  not  send  mis- 
fortune on  my  field  ! and  I shall  give  thee  this  flitch.” 
Among  the  neighbors  of  the  Lets,  the  Esthonians, 
who,  though  un-Aryan  in  language,  have  evidently 
learned  much  from  their  Aryan  neighbors,  the  following 
prayer  ivas  heard, f addressed  by  an  old  peasant  to  their 
god  Picker  or  Picken , the  god  of  thunder  and  rain,  as 
late  as  the  seventeenth  century.:): 

“ Dear  Thunder  (woda  Picker),  we  offer  to  thee  an 
ox  that  has  two  horns  and  four  cloven  hoofs  ; we  would 
pray  thee  for  our  ploughing  and  sowing,  that  our  straw 
be  copper-red,  our  grain  golden-yellow.  Push  elsewhere 
all  the  thick  black  clouds,  over  great  fens,  high  forests, 
and  wildernesses.  Put  unto  us,  ploughers  and  sowers, 
give  a fruitful  season  and  sweet  rain.  Holy  Thunder 
(polia  Picken),  guard  our  seed- field,  that  it  bear  good 
straw  below,  good  ears  above,  and  good  grain  within.  ”§ 
Now,  I say  again,  I do  not  wish  you  to  admire  this 
primitive  poetry,  primitive,  whether  it  is  repeated  in  the 
Esthonian  fens  in  the  seventeenth  century  of  our  era,  or 
sung  in  the  valley  of  the  Indus  in  the  seventeenth 

Zeit,  und  ihn  der  Donnerund  blixkein  sekaden  tkett.”  Cf.  “ Gotte- 
sides  bei  den  alten  Preussen,”  Berlin,  1870,  p.  23.  The  triad  of  the 
gods  is  called  Triburti,  Tryboze  ; 1.  c.  p.  29. 

* Grimm,  “ Teutonic  Mythology,”  p.  175  ; and  Lasitzki  (Lasicius) 
“ Joannes  De  Kussorum,  Moscovitarum  et  Tartarorum  religione,  sacri- 
ficiis,  nuptiarum  et  funerum  ritu,  Spiras  Nemetum,  ” 1582  ; idem  De 
Diis  Samagitarum. 

f Grimm,  1.  c.  p.  170,  quoting  from  Joh.  Gutslaff,  “ Kurzer  Bericht 
und  Unterricht  von  der  falsch  heilig  genannten  Bacho  in  Liefland 
Wohhanda,”  Dorpat,  1G44.  pp.  3G2-364. 

t In  modern  Esthonian  Pitkne,  the  Finnish  Pitcainen  (?). 

§ On  foreign  influences  in  Esthonian  stories,  see  “ Ehstniche  Miir- 
chen,”  von  T.  Kreutzwald,  1869,  Vorwort  (by  Schiefner),  p.  iv. 


212 


LECTURE  YI. 


century  before  our  era.  Let  {esthetic  critics  say  what 
they  like  about  these  uncouth  poems.  I only  ask  you, 
Is  it  not  worth  a great  many  poems,  to  have  established 
this  fact,  that  the  same  god  Parpanya,  the  god  of  clouds 
and  thunder  and  lightning  and  rain,  who  was  invoked  in 
India  a thousand  years  before  India  was  discovered  by 
Alexander,  should  have  been  remembered  and  believed 
in  by  Lituanian  peasants  on  the  frontier  between  East 
Prussia  and  Russia,  not  more  than  two  hundred  years 
ago,  and  should  have  retained  its  old  name  Parpanya, 
which  in  Sanskrit  meant  “ showering,”  under  the  form 
of  Perhuna , which  in  Lituanian  is  a name  and  a name 
only,  without  any  etymological  meaning  at  all  ; nay, 
should  live  on,  as  some  scholars  assure  us,  in  an  ab- 
breviated form  in  most  Slavonic  dialects,  namely,  in 
Old  Slavonic  as  Perun , in  Polish  as  Piorun,  in  Bohe- 
mian as  Peraun,  all  meaning  thunder  or  thunderstorm  ?* 
Such  facts  strike  me  as  if  we  saw  the  blood  suddenly 
beginning  to  flow  again  through  the  veins  of  old  mum- 
mies ; or  as  if  the  Egyptian  statues  of  black  granite 
were  suddenly  to  begin  to  speak  again.  Touched  by 
the  rays  of  modern  science  the  old  words — call  them 
mummies  or  statues — begin  indeed  to  live  again,  the  old 
names  of  gods  and  heroes  begin  indeed  to  speak  again. 

* Grimm  suggests  in  his  “ Teutonic  Mythology  ” that  Parganya 
should  be  identified  with  the  Gothic  fairguni,  or  mountain.  He  im- 
gaines  that  from  being  regarded  as  the  abode  of  the  god  it  had  finally 
been  called  by  his  name.  Fergunna,  and  Virgnnia,  two  names  of  moun- 
tains in  Germany,  are  relics  of  the  name.  The  name  of  the  god,  if  pre- 
served in  the  Gothic,  would  have  been  Fairguneis , and  indeed  in  the  Old 
Norse  language  Fiorgynn  is  the  father  of  Frigg,  the  wife  of  Odin,  and 
Fiorgynnior,  the  Earth-goddess,  is  mother  of  Thor.  Professor  Zimmer 
takes  the  same  view.  Grimm  thinks  that  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  by 
changing/ into  h,  represented  Fergunni  byHercynia,  and,  in  fine,  he 
traces  the  words  berg  and  burg  back  to  Parganya. — A.  W, 


V EDIC  DEITIES. 


213 


All  that  is  old  becomes  new,  all  that  is  new  becomes  old, 
and  that  one  word,  Paryanya,  seems,  like  a charm,  to 
open  before  our  eyes  the  cave  or  cottage  in  which  the 
fathers  of  the  Aryan  race,  our  own  fathers — whether 
we  live  on  the  Baltic  or  on  the  Indian  Ocean — are  seen 
gathered  together,  taking  refuge  from  the  buckets  of 
Paryanya,  and  saying,  “ Stop  now,  Paryanya  ; thou 
hast  sent  rain  ; thou  hast  made  the  deserts  passable,  and 
hast  made  the  plants  to  grow  ; and  thou  hast  obtained 
praise  from  man.” 

We  have  still  to  consider  the  third  class  of  gods,  in 
addition  to  the  gods  of  the  earth  and  the  sky,  namely 
the  gods  of  the  highest  heaven,  more  serene  in  their 
character  than  the  active  and  fighting  gods  of  the  air 
and  the  clouds,  and  more  remote  from  the  eyes  of  man, 
and  therefore  more  mysterious  in  the  exercise  of  their 
power  than  the  gods  of  the  earth  or  the  air. 

The  principal  deity  is  here  no  doubt  the  bright  sky 
itself,  the  old  Dyaus , worshipped  as  we  know  by  the 
Aryans  before  they  broke  up  into  separate  people  and 
languages,  and  surviving  in  Greece  as  Zeus,  in  Italy  as 
Jupiter,  Ileaven-fatlier,  and  among  the  Teutonic  tribes 
as  Tyr  and  Tiu.  In  the  Veda  we  saw  him  chiefly  in- 
voked in  connection  with  the  earth,  as  Dyava-pWthivi, 
Heaven  and  Earth.  He  is  invoked  by  himself  also,  but 
he  is  a vanishing  god,  and  his  place  is  taken  in  most  of 
the  Vedic  poems  by  the  younger  and  more  active  god, 
Indra. 

Another  representative  of  the  highest  heaven,  as 
covering,  embracing,  and  shielding  all  things,  is  Varuna, 
a name  derived  from  the  root  var,  to  cover,  and  identical 
with  the  Greek  Ouranos.  This  god  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  creations  of  the  Hindu  mind,  because  though 


214 


LECTURE  TI. 


we  can  still  perceive  tlie  physical  background  from  which 
he  rises,  the  vast,  starry,  brilliant  expanse  above,  his 
features,  more  than  those  of  any  of  the  "\  edic  gods,  have 
become  completely  transfigured,  and  he  stands  before  us 
as  a god  who  watches  over  the  world,  punishes  the  evil- 
doer, and  even  forgives  the  sins  of  those  who  implore  his 
pardon. 

I shall  read  you  one  of  the  hymns  addressed  to  him  : ~ 

“ Let  us  be  blessed  in  thy  service,  O Tarawa,  for  we 
always  flunk  of  thee  and  praise  thee,  greeting  thee  day 
by  day,  like  the  fires  lighted  on  the  altar,  at  the  appioach 
of  the  rich  dawns.”  2. 

“ O Yanina,  our  guide,  let  us  stand  in  thy  keeping, 
thou  who  art  rich  in  heroes  and  praised  far  and  wide  ! 
And  you,  unconquered  sons  of  Aditi,  deign  to  accept  us 
as  your  friends,  O gods  !”  3. 

“ Aditya,  the  ruler,  sent  forth  these  rivers  ; they 
follow  the  law  of  Yanina.  They  tire  not,  they  cease 
not  ; like  birds  they  fly  quickly  everywhere. ' ’ 4. 

“ Take  from  me  my  sin,  like  a fetter,  and  we  shall 
increase,  O Yaruna,  the  spring  of  thy  law.  Let  not  the 
thread  be  cut  while  1 weave  my  song  ! Let  not  the 
form  of  the  workman  break  before  the  time  ! 5. 

“ Take  far  away  from  me  this  terror,  O Yaruna  ; 
Thou,  O righteous  king,  have  mercy  on  me  ! Like  as 
a rope  from  a calf,  remove  from  me  my  sin  ; for  away 
from  thee  1 am  not  master  even  of  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.”  6. 

“ Do  not  strike  us,  Yaruna,  with  weapons  which  at 
thy  will  hurt  the  evil-doer.  Let  us  not  go  where  the 
lio-ht  has  vanished  ! Scatter  our  enemies,  that  we  may 
live.”  7. 

4 4 We  did  formerly,  O Yaruna,  and  do  now,  and  shall 
* Rig-Veila  II.  28. 


VEDIC  DEITIES. 


215 


in  future  also,  sing  praises  to  thee,  O mighty  one  ! For 
on  thee,  unconquerable  hero,  rest  all  statutes,  immovable, 
as  if  established  on  a rock.”  8. 

“ Move  faraway  from  me  all  self-committed  guilt,  and 
may  I not,  O king,  suffer  for  what  others  have  com- 
mitted ! Many  dawns  liaye  not  yet  dawned  ; grant  us 
to  live  in  them,  O Yaru/ia.”  9. 

You  may  have  observed  that  in  several  verses  of  this 
hymn  Varima  was  called  Aditya,  or  son  of  Aditi.  Now 
Aditi  means  infinitude , from  dita,  bound,  and  a,  not, 
that  is,  not  bound,  not  limited,  absolute,  infinite.  Aditi 
itself  is  now  and  then  invoked  in  the  Veda,  as  the  Be- 
yond, as  what  is  beyond  the  earth  and  the  sky,  and  the 
sun  and  the  dawn — a most  surprising  conception  in  that 
early  period  of  religious  thought.  More  frquently, 
however,  than  Aditi,  we  meet  with  the  Adityas,  literally 
the  sons  of  Aditi,  or  the  gods  beyond  the  visible  earth 
and  sky — in  one  sense,  the  infinite  gods.  One  of  them 
is  Varima,  others  Mitra  and  Aryaman  (Bhaga,  Daksha, 
Amsa),  most  of  them  abstract  names,  though  pointing  to 
heaven  and  the  solar  light  of  heaven  as  their  first,  though 
almost  forgotten  source. 

When  Mitra  and  Varima  are  invoked  together,  we 
can  still  perceive  dimly  that  they  were  meant  originally 
for  day  and  night,  light  and  darkness.  But  in  their 
more  personal  and  so  to  say  dramatic  aspect,  day  and 
night  appear  in  the  Vedic  mythology  as  the  two  Asvins, 
the  two  horsemen. 

Aditi,  too,  the  infinite,  still  shows  a few  traces  of  her 
being  originally  connected  with  the  boundless  Dawn  ; 
but  again,  in  her  more  personal  and  dramatic  character, 
the  Dawn  is  praised  by  the  Vedic  poets  as  Ushas,  the 
Greek  Eos,  the  beautiful  maid  of  the  morning,  loved  by 
the  A-svins,  loved  by  the  sun,  but  vanishing  before  him 


216 


LECTURE  VI. 


at  the  very  moment  when  he  tries  to  embrace  her  with 
his  golden  rays.  The  sun  himself,  whom  we  saw  re- 
flected several  times  before  in  some  of  the  divine  person- 
ifications of  the  air  and  the  sky  and  even  of  the  earth, 
appears  once  more  in  his  full  personality,  as  the  sun  of 
the  sky,  under  the  names  of 4 Surya  (Helios),  Savitvi, 
Puslian,  and  Yishnu,  and  many  more. 

You  see  from  all  this  how  great  a mistake  it  would  be 
to  attempt  to  reduce  the  whole  of  Aryan  mythology  to 
solar  concepts,  and  to  solar  concepts  only.  We  have 
seen  how  largely  the  earth,  the  air,  and  the  sky  have 
each  contributed  their  share  to  the  earliest  religious  and 
mythological  treasury  of  the  Yedic  Aryans.  Neverthe- 
less, the  Sun  occupied  in  that  ancient  collection  of  Aryan 
thought,  which  we  call  Mythology,  the  same  central 
and  commanding  position  which,  under  different  names, 
it  still  holds  in  our  own  thoughts. 

"What  we  call  the  Morning,  the  ancient  Aryans  called 
the  Sun  or  the  Dawn  ; “ and  there  is  no  solemnity  so 
deep  to  a rightly-thinking  creature  as  that  of  the  Dawn.  ” 
(These  are  not  my  words,  but  the  words  of  one  of  our 
greatest  poets,  one  of  the  truest  worshippers  of  Nature — 
John  Ruskin.)  What  we  call  Noon,  and  Evening,  and 
Night,  what  we  call  Spring  and  Winter,  what  we  call 
Year,  and  Time,  and  Life,  and  Eternity— all  this  the 
ancient  Aryans  called  Sun.  And  yet  wise  people  won- 
der and  say,  How  curious  that  the  ancient  Aryans  should 
have  had  so  many  solar  myths.  Why,  every  time  we 
say  “ Good-morning,”  we  commit  a solar  myth.  Every 
poet  who  sings  about  “ the  May  driving  the  Winter 
from  the  field  again”  commits  a solar  myth.  Every 
“ Christmas  number”  of  our  newspapers — ringing  out 
the  old  year  and  ringing  in  the  new — is  brimful  of  solar 
myths.  Be  not  afraid  of  solar  myths,  but  whenever  in 


VEDIC  DEITIES. 


217 


ancient  mythology  you  meet  with  a name  that,  according 
to  the  strictest  phonetic  rules  (for  this  is  a sine  qua  non), 
can  he  traced  back  to  a word  meaning  sun,  or  dawn,  or 
morning,  or  night,  or  spring  or  winter,  accept  it  for 
what  it  was  meant  to  be,  and  do  not  be  greatly  surprised, 
if  a story  told  of  a solar  eponymos  was  originally  a solar 
myth. 

No  one  has  more  strongly  protested  against  the  ex- 
travagances of  comparative  mythologists  in  changing 
everything  into  solar  legends,  than  I have  ; but  if  I read 
some  of  the  arguments  brought  forward  against  this  new 
science,  I confess  they  remind  me  of  nothing  so  much  as 
of  the  arguments  brought  forward,  centuries  ago,  against 
the  existence  of  Antipodes  ! People  then  appealed  to 
what  is  called  Common  Sense,  which  ought  to  teach 
everybody  that  Antipodes  could  not  possibly  exist,  lie- 
cause  they  would  tumble  off.  The  best  answer  that 
astronomers  could  give,  was,  “ Go  and  see.”  And  I 
can  give  no  better  answer  to  those  learned  skeptics  who 
try  to  ridicule  the  Science  of  Comparative  Mythology — 
“ Go  and  see  !”  that  is,  go  and  read  the  Yeda,  and 
before  you  have  finished  the  first  Ma«r?ala,  I can  promise 
you,  you  will  no  longer  shake  your  wise  heads  at  solar 
myths,  whether  in  India,  or  in  Greece,  or  in  Italy,  or 
even  in  England,  where  we  see  so  little  of  the  sun,  and 
talk  all  the  more  about  the  weather — that  is,  about  a 
solar  myth. 

We  have  thus  seen  from  the  hymns  and  prayers 
preserved  to  us  in  the  Pig- Veda,  how  a large  number  of 
so-called  Pevas,  bright  and  sunny  beings,  or  gods,  were 
called  into  existence,  how  the  whole  world  was  peopled 
with  them,  and  every  act  of  nature,  whether  on  the 
earth  or  in  the  air  or  in  the  highest  heaven,  ascribed  to 
their  agency.  When  we  say  it  thunders,  they  said 


218 


LECTURE  VI. 


Indra  thunders ; when  we  say,  it  rains,  they  said 
Paryanya  pours  out  his  buckets  ; when  we  say,  it  dawns, 
they  said  the  beautiful  Ushas  appears  like  a dancer, 
displaying  her  splendor  ; when  we  say,  it  grows  dark, 
they  said  Surya  unharnesses  his  steeds.  The  whole  of 
nature  was  alive  to  the  poets  of  the  Veda,  the  presence 
of  the  gods  was  felt  everywhere,  and  in  that  sentiment 
of  the  presence  of  the  gods  there  was  a germ  of  relig- 
ious morality,  sufficiently  strong,  it  would  seem,  to 
restrain  people  from  committing  as  it  were  before  the 
eyes  of  their  gods  what  the}7  were  ashamed  to  commit 
before  the  eyes  of  men.  When  speaking  of  Varuua, 
the  old  god  of  the  sky,  one  poet  says  :* 

“ Vanina,  the  great  lord  of  these  worlds,  sees  as  if  he 
were  near.  If  a man  stands  or  walks  or  hides,  if  he 
goes  to  lie  down  or  to  get  up,  what  two  people  sitting 
together  whisper  to  each  other,  King  Varima  knows  it, 
he  is  there  as  the  third,  f This  earth  too  belongs  to 
Vanina,  the  King,  and  this  wide  sky  with  its  ends  far 
apart.  The  two  seas  (the  sky  and  the  ocean)  are 
Vanina’s  loins  ; he  is  also  contained  in  this  small  drop 
of  water.  He  who  should  flee  far  beyond  the  sky,  even 
he  would  not  be  rid  of  Varuna,  the  King.;};  His  spies 
proceed  from  heaven  toward  this  world  ; with  thousand 
eyes  they  overlook  this  earth.  King  Varuna  sees  all 
this,  what  is  between  heaven  and  earth,  and  what  is 
beyond.  He  has  counted  the  twinklings  of  the  eyes  of 
men.  As  a player  throws  down  the  dice,  he  settles  all 

* Atharva-Veda  IV.  16. 

f Psalm  cxxxix.  1,  2,  “O  Lord,  tliou  hast  searched  me  and  known 
me.  Thou  knowest  my  downsitting  and  mine  uprising,  thou  under- 
standest  my  thought  afar  off.” 

\ Psalm  cxxxix.  9,  “If  I take  the  wings  of  the  morning,  and  dwell 
in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea  ; even  there  shall  thy  hand  lead  me, 
and  thy  right  hand  shall  hold  me.” 


VEDIC  DEITIES. 


219 


things  (irrevocably).  May  all  thy  fatal  snares  which 
stand  spread  out  seven  by  seven  and  threefold,  catch  the 
man  who  tells  a lie,  may  they  pass  by  him  who  speaks 
the  truth.” 

You  see  this  is  as  beautiful,  and  in  some  respects  as 
true,  as  anything  in  the  Psalms.  And  yet  we  know  that 
there  never  was  such  a Deva,  or  god,  or  such  a thing 
as  Varima.  We  know  it  is  a mere  name,  meaning 
originally  “ covering  or  all-embracing,”  which  was 
applied  to  the  visible  starry  sky,  and  afterward,  by  a 
process  perfectly  intelligible,  developed  into  the  name 
of  a Being,  endowed  with  human  and  superhuman 
qualities. 

And  what  applies  to  Yarima  applies  to  all  the  other 
gods  of  the  Veda  and  the  Vedic  religion,  whether  three 
in  number,  or  thirty-three,  or,  as  one  poet  said,  “ three 
thousand  three  hundred  and  thirty-nine  gods.”*  They 
are  all  but  names,  quite  as  much  as  Jupiter  and  Apollo 
and  Minerva  ; in  fact,  quite  as  much  as  all  the  gods  of 
every  religion  who  are  called  by  such  appellative  titles. 

Possibly,  if  any  one  had  said  this  during  the  Vedic 
age  in  India,  or  even  during  the  Periklean  age  in 
Greece,  he  would  have  been  called,  like  Sokrates,  a 
blasphemer  or  an  atheist.  And  yet  nothing  can  be 
clearer  or  truer,  and  we  shall  see  that  some  of  the  poets 
of  the  Veda  too,  and,  still  more,  the  later  Vedantie 
philosopher,  had  a clear  insight  that  it  was  so. 

Only  let  us  be  careful  in  the  use  of  that  phrase  “ it  is 
a mere  name.”  No  name  is  a mere  name.  Every 
name  was  originally  meant  for  something  ; only  it  often 
failed  to  express  what  it  was  meant  to  express,  and  then 
became  a weak  or  an  empty  name,  or  what  we  then  call 
“ a mere  name.”  So  it  was  with  these  names  of  the 


Rig-veda  III.  9,  9 ; X.  52,  G. 


220 


LECTURE  VI. 


Vedic  gods.  They  were  all  meant  to  express  the 
Bayonet^  the  Invisible  behind  the  Visible,  the  Infinite 
within  the  Finite,  the  Supernatural  above  the  Natural, 
the  Divine,  omnipresent,  and  omnipotent.  They  failed 
in  expressing  what,  by  its  very  nature,  must  always 
remain  inexpressible.  But  that  Inexpressible  itself  le- 
mained,  and  in  spite  of  all  these  failures,  it  never  suc- 
cumbed, or  vanished  from  the  mind  of  the  ancient 
thinkers  and  poets,  but  always  called  for  new  and  bettei 
names,  nay  calls  for  them  even  now,  and  will  call  for 
them  to  the  very  end  of  man’s  existence  upon  earth. 


LECTURE  YII. 


TED A AND  VEDANTA. 

I do  not  wonder  that  I should  have  been  asked  by 
some  of  my  hearers  to  devote  part  of  my  last  lecture 
to  answering  the  question,  how  the  Yedie  literature 
could  have  been  composed  and  preserved,  if  writing 
was  unknown  in  India  before  500  b.c.  , while  the  hymns 
of  the  Rig- Veda  are  said  to  date  from  1500  n.c.  Class- 
ical scholars  naturally  ask  what  is  the  date  of  our  oldest 
mss.  of  the  Rig-Veda,  and  what  is  the  evidence  on  which 
so  high  an  antiquity  is  assigned  to  its  contents.  I shall 
try  to  answer  this  question  as  well  as  I can,  and  I shall 
begin  with  a humble  confession  that  the  oldest  mss.  of 
the  Rig-Veda,  known  to  us  at  present,  date  not  from 
1500  n.c.,  but  from  about  1500  a.d. 

We  have  therefore  a gap  of  three  thousand  years, 
which  it  will  require  a strong  arch  of  argument  to  bridge 
over. 

But  that  is  not  all. 

You  may  know  how,  in  the  beginning  of  this  century, 
when  the  age  of  the  Homeric  poems  was  discussed,  a 
German  scholar,  Frederick  August  Wolf,  asked  two 
momentous  questions  : 

1.  At  what  time  did  the  Greeks  first  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  alphabet  and  use  it  for  inscriptions 
on  public  monuments,  coins,  shields,  and  for  contracts, 
both  public  and  private  ? * 

* On  the  early  use  of  letters  for  public  inscriptions,  see  Hayman, 


222 


LECTURE  VII. 


2.  At  what  time  did  the  Greeks  first  think  of  using; 
writing  for  literary  purposes,  and  what  materials  did 
they  employ  for  that  purpose  ? 

These  two  cpiestions  and  the  answers  they  elicited 
threw  quite  a new  fight  on  the  nebulous  periods  of 
Greek  literature.  A fact  more  firmly  established  than 
any  other  in  the  ancient  history  of  Greece  is  that  the 
Ionians  learned  the  alphabet  from  the  Phenicians.  The 
Ionians  always  called  their  letters  Phenician  letters,* 
and  the  very  name  of  Alphabet  was  a Phenician  word. 
We  can  well  understand  that  the  Phenicians  should  have 
taught  the  Ionians  in  Asia  Minor  a knowledge  of  the 
alphabet,  partly  for  commercial  purposes,  i.e.  for  making 
contracts,  partly  for  enabling  them  to  use  those  useful 
little  sheets,  called  Pei'iplus , or  Circumnavigations, 
which  at  that  time  were  as  precious  to  sailors  as  maps 
were  to  the  adventurous  seamen  of  the  middle  ages. 
But  from  that  to  a written  literature,  in  our  sense  of  the 
word,  there  is  still  a wide  step.  It  is  well  known  that 
the  Germans,  particularly  in  the  North,  had  their  Bunes 
for  inscriptions  on  tombs,  goblets,  public  monuments, 
but  not  for  literary  purposes. f Even  if  a few  Ionians  at 
Miletus  and  other  centres  of  political  and  commercial 
life  acquired  the  art  of  writing,  where  could  they  find 
writing  materials  ? and  still  more  important,  where 
could  they  find  readers  ? The  Ionians,  when  they  began 
to  write,  had  to  be  satisfied  with  a hide  or  pieces  of 
leather,  which  they  called  diphthera , and  until  that  was 

Journal  of  Philology,  1879,  pp.  141, 142, 150  ; Hicks,  “ Manual  of  Greek 
Historical  Inscriptions,”  pp.  1 seqq. 

* Herod,  (v.  59)  says  : “ I saw  Phenician  letters  on  certain  tripods 
in  a temple  of  the  Ismenian  Apollo  at  Thebes  in  Boeotia,  the  most  of 
them  like  the  Ionian  letters.” 

| Munch,  “ Die  Nordisch  Germanischen  Volker,  ” p.  240. 


VEDA  ANI)  VEDANTA. 


223 


brought  to  the  perfection  of  vellum  or  parchment,  the 
occupation  of  an  author  cannot  have  been  very  agree- 
able.* 

So  far  as  we  know  at  present  the  Ionians  began  to 
write  about  the  middle  of  the  sixth  century  b.c.  ; and, 
whatever  may  have  been  said  to  the  contrary,  Wolf’s 
dictum  still  holds  good  that  with  them  the  beginning  of 
a written  literature  was  the  same  as  the  beginning  of 
prose  writing. 

Writing  at  that  time  was  an  effort,  and  such  an  effort 
was  made  for  some  great  purpose  only.  Hence  the  first 
written  skins  were  what  we  should  call  Murray’s  Hand- 
books, called  Periegesis  or  Periodos , or,  if  treating  of 
sea-voyages,  Periplus,  that  is,  guide-books,  books  to 
lead  travellers  round  a country  or  round  a town.  Con- 
nected with  these  itineraries  were  the  accounts  of  the 
foundations  of  cities,  the  Ktisis.  Such  books  existed  in 
Asia  Minor  during  the  sixth  and  fifth  centuries,  and 
their  writers  were  called  by  a general  term,  Lugographi , 
or  "koyioi  or  AoyoTrotoi,f  as  opposed  to  aoidoc , the  poets. 
They  were  the  forerunners  of  the  Greek  historians,  and 
Herodotus  (443  b.c.),  the  so-called  father  of  history, 
made  frequent  use  of  their  works. 

The  whole  of  this  incipient  literary  activity  belonged 
to  Asia  Minor.  From  “ Guides  through  towns  and 
countries,’  ’ literature  seems  to  have  spread  at  an  early 
time  to  Guides  through  life,  or  philosophical  dicta,  such 


* Herod,  (v.  58)  says  : “ The  Ionians  from  of  old  call  pvp?o<;  tinpOepai, 
because  once,  in  default  of  the  former,  they  used  to  employ  the  lat- 
ter. And  even  down  to  my  own  time,  many  of  the  barbarians  write 
on  such  diphtherse.” 

f Hekateeos  and  Kadmos  of  Miletos  (520  b.  c.),  Charon  of  Lampsa- 
kos  (504  b.  o.),  Xanthos  the  Lydian  (4G3  b.c.),  Flierekydes  of  Lero- 
(480  b.  c.),  Hellanikos  of  Mitylene  (450  b.  c.),  etc. 


224 


LECTURE  VII. 


as  are  ascribed  to  Anaximander  the  Ionian  (610-547 
b.c.*),  and  Pherekydes  tbe  Syrian  (540  b.c.).  These 
names  carry  us  into  the  broad  daylight  of  history,  for 
Anaximander  was  the  teacher  of  Anaximenes,  Anaxi- 
menes of  Anaxagoras,  and  Anaxagoras  of  Perikles.  At 
that  time  writing  was  a recognized  art,  and  its  cultiva- 
tion had  been  rendered  possible  chiefly  through  trade 
with  Egypt  and  the  importation  of  papyros.  In  the 
time  of  .zEschylos  (500  b.c.)  the  idea  of  writing  had 
become  so  familiar  that  he  could  use  it  again  and  again 
in  poetical  metaphors,!  and  there  seems  little  reason 
why  we  should  doubt  that  both  Peisistratos  (528  b.c.) 
and  Polykrates  of  Samos  (523  b.c.)  were  among  the  first 
collectors  of  Greek  manuscripts. 

In  this  manner  the  simple  questions  asked  by  Wolf 
helped  to  reduce  the  history  of  ancient  Greek  literature 
to  some  kind  of  order,  particularly  with  reference  to  its 
first  beginnings. 

It  would  therefore  seem  but  reasonable  that  the  two 
first  questions  to  be  asked  by  the  students  of  Sanskrit 
literature  should  have  been  : 

1.  At  what  time  did  the  people  of  India  become 
acquainted  with  an  alphabet  ? 

2.  At  what  time  did  they  first  use  such  alphabet  for 
literary  purposes  ? 

Curiously  enough,  however,  these  questions  remained 
in  abeyance  for  a long  time,  and,  as  a consequence,  it 
was  impossible  to  introduce  even  the  first  elements  of 
order  into  the  chaos  of  ancient  Sanskrit  literature. ! 

I can  here  state  a few  facts  only.  There  are  no 

* Lewis,  “ Astronomy,”  p.  92. 

•)•  See  Hayman,  Journal  of  Philology,  1879,  p.  139. 

\ See  M.  M.,  ‘‘History  of  Ancient  Sanskrit  Literature,”  pp.  497 
seqq.,  “ On  the  Introduction  of  Writing  in  India.” 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


225 


inscriptions  to  be  found  anywhere  in  India  before  the 
middle  of  the  third  century  b.o.  These  inscriptions  are 
Buddhist,  put  up  during  the  reign  of  Asoka,  the  grand- 
son of  Aandragupta,  who  was  the  contemporary  of 
Seleucus,  and  at  whose  court  in  Patalibothra  Megas- 
thenes  lived  as  ambassador  of  Seleucus.  Here,  as  you 
see,  we  are  on  historical  ground.  In  fact,  there  is  little 
doubt  that  Asoka,  the  king  who  put  up  these  inscrip- 
tions in  several  parts  of  his  vast  kingdom,  reigned  from 
259-222  B.o. 

These  inscriptions  are  written  in  two  alphabets — one 
written  from  right  to  left,  and  clearly  derived  from  an 
Aramaean,  that  is,  a Semitic  alphabet ; the  other  written 
from  left  to  right,  and  clearly  an  adaptation,  and  an 
artificial  or  systematic  adaptation,  of  a Semitic  alphabet 
to  the  requirements  of  an  Indian  language.  That 
second  alphabet  became  the  source  of  all  Indian  alpha- 
bets, and  of  many  alphabets  carried  chiefly  by  Buddhist 
teachers  far  beyond  the  limits  of  India,  though  it  is 
possible  that  the  earliest  Tamil  alphabet  may  have  been 
directly  derived  from  the  same  Semitic  source  which 
supplied  both  the  dextrorsum  and  the  sinistrormm 
alphabets  of  India. 

Here  then  we  have  the  first  fact — viz.  that  writing, 
even  for  monumental  purposes,  was  unknown  in  India 
before  the  third  century  b.o. 

But  writing  for  commercial  purposes  was  known  in 
India  before  that  time.  Megasthenes  was  no  doubt  quite 
right  when  he  said  that  the  Indians  did  not  know 
letters,*  that  their  laws  were  not  written,  and  that  they 
administered  justice  from  memory.  But  Nearchus,  the 
admiral  of  Alexander  the  Great,  who  sailed  down  the 
Indus  (325  b.c.),  and  was  therefore  brought  in  contact 
* M.  M.,  “ History  of  Ancient  Sanskrit  Literature,”  p.  515. 


226 


LECTURE  VII. 


with  the  merchants  frequenting  the  maritime  stations  of 
India,  was  probably  equally  right  in  declaring  that  “ the 
Indians  wrote  letters  on  cotton  that  had  been  well  beaten 
together.”  These  were  no  doubt  commercial  docu- 
ments, contracts,  it  may  be,  with  Phenician  or  Egyptian 
captains,  and  they  would  prove  nothing  as  to  the  ex- 
istence in  India  at  that  time  of  what  we  mean  by  a 
written  literature.  In  fact,  Nearclius  himself  affirms 
what  Megasthenes  said  after  him,  namely  that  “ the 
laws  of  the  sophists  in  India  were  not  written.”  If, 
at  the  same  time,  the  Greek  travellers  in  India  speak  of 
mile-stones,  and  of  cattle  marked  by  the  Indians  with 
various  signs  and  also  with  numbers,  all  this  would 
perfectly  agree  with  what  we  know  from  other  sources, 
that  though  the  art  of  writing  may  have  reached  India 
before  the  time  of  Alexander’s  conquest,  its  employment 
for  literary  purposes  cannot  date  from  a much  earlier 
time. 

Here  then  we  are  brought  face  to  face  with  a most 
startling  fact.  Writing  was  unknown  in  India  before 
the  fourth  century  before  Christ,  and  yet  we  are  asked 
to  believe  that  the  Yedic  literature  in  its  three  well- 
defined  periods,  the  Mantra,  Brahmana,  and  Sutra 
periods,  goes  hack  to  at  least  a thousand  years  before 
our  era. 

Now  the  Big- Veda  alone,  which  contains  a collection 
of  ten  hooks  of  hymns  addressed  to  various  deities, 
consists  of  1017  (1028)  poems,  10,580  verses,  and  about 
153, S2G  words.*  Ilow  were  these  poems  composed — 
for  they  are  composed  in  very  perfect  metre — and  how, 
after  having  been  composed,  were  they  handed  down 
from  1500  before  Christ  to  1500  after  Christ,  the  time 
to  which  most  of  our  best  Sanskrit  mss.  belong  ? 

* M.  M.,  “ Hibbert  Lectures,”  p.  153. 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


227 


Entirely  by  memory .*  This  may  sound  startling, 
hut — what  will  sound  still  more  startling,  and  yet  is  a 
fact  that  can  easily  be  ascertained  by  anybody  who 
doubts  it— at  the  present  moment,  if  every  ms.  of  the 
Rig  -Veda  were  lost,  we  should  be  able  to  recover  the 
whole  of  it — from  the  memory  of  the  /S'rotriyas  in  India. 
These  native  students  learn  the  Yeda  by  heart,  and  they 
learn  it  from  the  mouth  of  their  Guru,  never  from  a 
ms.,  still  less  from  my  printed  edition — and  after  a 
time  they  teach  it  again  to  their  pupils. 

I have  had  such  students  in  my  room  at  Oxford,  who 
not  only  could  repeat  these  hymns,  but  who  repeated 
them  with  the  proper  accents  (for  the  Yedic  Sanskrit 
has  accents  like  Greek),  nay,  who,  when  looking  through 
my  printed  edition  of  the  Rig- Yeda,  could  point  out  a 
misprint  without  the  slightest  hesitation. 

I can  tell  you  more.  There  are  hardly  any  various 
readings  in  our  mss.  of  the  Rig- Yeda,  but  various  schools 
in  India  have  their  own  readings  of  certain  passages,  and 
they  hand  down  those  readings  with  great  care.  So, 
instead  of  collating  mss.,  as  we  do  in  Greek  and  Latin, 
I have  asked  some  friends  of  mine  to  collate  those  Yedic 
students,  who  carry  their  own  Rig- Veda  in  their  memory, 
and  to  let  me  have  the  various  readings  from  these  living 
authorities. 

Here  then  we  are  not  dealing  with  theories,  but  with 
facts,  which  anybody  may  verify.  The  whole  of  the 
Rig- Yeda,  and  a great  deal  more,  still  exists  at  the 
present  moment  in  the  oral  tradition  of  a number  of 

* Learning  was  anciently  preserved  by  memory.  The  Jewish,  or 
rather  Chaldaic  Kubala,  or  Tradition  was  not  written  for  many 
centuries.  The  Druids  of  ancient  Britain  preserved  their  litanies  in 
the  same  way,  and  to  a Bard  a good  memory  was  indispensable,  or  he 
would  have  been  refused  initiation. — A.  W. 


228 


LECTURE  VII. 


scholars  who,  if  they  liked,  could  write  down  every 
letter,  and  every  accent,  exactly  as  we  find  them  in  our 
old  mss.  Of  course,  this  learning  by  heart  is  carried  on 
under  a strict  discipline  ; it  is,  in  fact,  considered  as  a 
sacred  duty.  A native  friend  of  mine,  himself  a very 
distinguished  Yedic  scholar,  tells  me  that  a hoy,  who  is  to 
he  brought  up  as  a student  of  the  Rig- Veda,  has  to  spend 
about  eight  years  in  the  house  of  his  teacher.  He  has 
to  learn  ten  hooks  : first,  the  hymns  of  the  Rig- Veda  ; 
then  a prose  treatise  on  sacrifices,  called  the  Brahmana  ; 
then  the  so-called  Forest-book  or  Aranyaka  ; then  the 
rules  on  domestic  ceremonies  ; and  lastly,  six  treatises 
on  pronunciation,  grammar,  etymology,  metre,  astron- 
omy, and  ceremonial. 

These  ten  books,  it  has  been  calculated,  contain  nearly 
80,000  lines,  each  line  reckoned  as  thirty-two  syllables. 

A pupil  studies  every  day  during  the  eight  years  of 
his  theological  apprenticeship,  except  on  the  holidays, 
which  are  called  “non-reading  days.”  There  being  3G0 
days  in  a lunar  year,  the  eight  years  would  give  him  2880 
days.  Deduct  from  this  3S4  holidays,  and  you  get  249G 
working  days  during  the  eight  years.  If  you  divide  the 
number  of  lines,  30,000,  by  the  number  of  working 
days,  you  get  about  twelve  lines  to  be  learned  each  day, 
though  much  time  is  taken  up,  in  addition,  for  practis- 
ing and  rehearsing  what  has  been  learned  before. 

Row  this  is  the  state  of  things  at  present,  though  I 
doubt  whether  it  will  last  much  longer,  and  I always 
impress  on  my  friends  in  India,  and  therefore  impress 
on  those  also  who  will  soon  be  settled  as  civil  servants 
in  India,  the  duty  of  trying  to  learn  all  that  can  still  be 
learned  from  those  living  libraries.  Much  ancient  San- 
skrit lore  will  be  lost  forever  when  that  race  of  Rrotriyas 
becomes  extinct. 


YEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


229 


But  now  let  us  look  back.  About  a thousand  years 
ago  a Chinese  of  the  name  of  I-tsing,  a Buddhist,  went 
to  Indra  to  learn  Sanskrit,  in  order  to  be  able  to  trans- 
late some  of  the  sacred  books  of  his  own  religion,  which 
were  originally  written  in  Sanskrit,  into  Chinese.  He 
left  China  in  671,  arrived  at  Tamralipti  in  India  in  673, 
and  went  to  the  great  College  and  Monastery  of  N alanda, 
where  he  studied  Sanskrit.  He  returned  to  China  in 
695,  and  died  in  703.* 

In  one  of  his  works  which  we  still  possess  in  Chinese, 
lie  gives  an  account  of  what  he  saw  in  India,  not  only 
among  his  own  co-religionists,  the  Buddhists,  but  like- 
wise among  the  Brahmans,  f 

Of  the  Buddhist  priests  he  says  that  after  they  have 
learned  to  recite  the  five  and  the  ten  precepts,  they  are 
taught  the  400  hymns  of  MatWZ'eta,  and  afterward  the 
150  hymns  of  the  same  poet.  When  they  arc  able  to 
recite  these,  they  begin  the  study  of  the  Sutras  of  their 
Sacred  Canon.  They  also  learn  by  heart  the  6rataka- 
mdla,J  which  gives  an  account  of  Buddha  in  former 
states  of  existence.  Speaking  of  what  he  calls  the 
islands  of  the  Southern  Sea,  which  he  visited  after 
leaving  India,  I-tsing  says  : “ There  are  more  than  ten 
islands  in  the  South  Sea.  There  both  priests  and  lay- 
men recite  the  6r&takamala,  as  they  recite  the  hymns 
mentioned  before  ; but  it  has  not  yet  been  translated  into 
Chinese.  ’ ’ 


* See  my  article  on  the  date  of  the  Kasika  in  the  Indian  Antiquary, 
1880,  p.  305. 

f The  translation  of  the  most  important  passages  in  I-tsing’ s work 
was  made  for  me  by  one  of  my  Japanese  pupils,  K.  Kasawara. 

\ See  Bunyiu  Nanjio’s  “Catalogue  of  the  Chinese  Tripitaka,”  p. 
372,  where  Aryasura,  who  must  have  lived  before  431  a.d.,  is  men- 
tioned as  the  author  of  the  “ (Jatakamaht.’  ’ 


230 


LECTURE  Til. 


One  of  these  stories,  lie  proceeds  to  say,  was  versified 
by  a king  (Aie-zhih)  and  set  to  music,  and  was  per- 
formed before  the  public  with  a band  and  dancing — 
evidently  a Buddhist  mystery  play. 

I-tsing  then  gives  a short  account  of  the  system  of 
education.  Children,  he  says,  learn  the  forty-nine 
letters  and  the  10,000  compound  letters  when  they  are 
six  years  old,  and  generally  finish  them  in  half  a year. 
This  corresponds  to  about  300  verses,  each  sloka  of 
thirty-two  syllables.  It  was  originally  taught  by 
Mahesvara.  At  eight  years,  children  begin  to  learn 
the  grammar  of  Bimini,  and  know  it  after  about  eight 
months.  It  consists  of  1000  s-lokas,  called  Sutras. 

Then  follows  the  list  of  roots  (dliatu)  and  the  three 
appendices  (khila),  consisting  again  of  1000  slokas. 
Boys  begin  the  three  appendices  when  they  are  ten 
years  old,  and  finish  them  in  three  years. 

When  they  have  reached  the  age  of  fifteen,  they 
begin  to  study  a commentary  on  the  grammar  (Sutra), 
and  spend  five  years  on  learning  it.  And  here  I-tsing 
gives  the  following  advice  to  his  countrymen,  many  of 
whom  came  to  India  to  learn  Sanskrit,  but  seem  to  have 
learned  it  very  imperfectly.  “ If  men  of  China,”  he 
writes,  “go  to  India,  wishing  to  study  there,  they 
should  first  of  all  learn  these  grammatical  works,  and 
then  only  other  subjects  ; if  not,  they  will  merely 
waste  their  labor.  These  works  * should  be  learned 
by  heart.  But  this  is  suited  for  men  of  high  quality 
only.  . . . They  should  study  hard  day  and  night, 

without  letting  a moment  pass  for  idle  repose.  They 
should  be  like  Confucius,  through  whose  hard  study  the 
binding  of  his  Yili-king  was  three  times  cut  asunder, 
being  worn  away  ; and  like  Sui-shih,  who  used  to  read 
a book  repeatedly  one  hundred  times.”  Then  follows  a 


VEDA  A STD  VEDANTA. 


231 


remark,  more  intelligible  in  Chinese  than  in  English  : 
‘‘  The  hairs  of  a bull  are  counted  by  thousands,  the  horn 
of  a unicorn  is  only  one.  ’ ’ 

I-tsing  then  speaks  of  the  high  degree  of  perfection  to 
which  the  memory  of  these  students  attained,  both 
among  Buddhists  and  heretics.  “ Such  men,’’  he  says, 
“ could  commit  to  memory  the  contents  of  two  volumes, 
learning  them  only  once.” 

And  then  turning  to  the  heretics , or  what  we  should 
call  the  orthodox  Brahmans,  he  says  : “ The  Brahmanas 
are  regarded  throughout  the  five  divisions  of  India  as 
the  most  respectable.  They  do  not  walk  with  the  other 
three  castes,  and  other  mixed  classes  of  people  are  still 
further  dissociated  from  them.  They  revere  their 
Scriptures,  the  four  Yedas,  containing  about  100,000 
verses.  . . . The  Yedas  are  handed  down  from 

mouth  to  mouth,  not  written  on  paper.  There  are  in 
every  generation  some  intelligent  Brahmans  who  can 
recite  those  100,000  verses.  ...  I myself  saw  such 
men.’’ 

Here  then  we  have  an  eye-witness  who,  in  the  seventh 
century  after  Christ,  visited  India,  learned  Sanskrit,  and 
spent  about  twenty  years  in  different  monasteries — a 
man  who  had  no  theories  of  his  own  about  oral  tradition, 
but  who,  on  the  contrary,  as  coming  from  China,  was 
quite  familiar  with  the  idea  of  a written,  nay,  of  a printed 
literature  : and  yet  what  does  he  say  ? “ The  Yedas  are 

not  written  on  paper,  but  handed  down  from  mouth  to 
mouth.  ’ ’ 

How,  1 do  not  quite  agree  here  with  I-tsing.  At  all 
events,  we  must  not  conclude  from  what  he  says  that 
there  existed  no  Sanskrit  mss.  at  all  at  his  time.  We 
know  they  existed.  We  know  that  in  the  first  century 
of  our  era  Sanskrit  mss.  were  carried  from  India  to 


232 


LECTURE  VII. 


China,  and  translated  there.  Most  likely  therefore  there 
were  mss.  of  the  Veda  also  in  existence.  But  I-tsing, 
for  all  that,  was  right  in  supposing  that  these  mss.  were 
not  allowed  to  be  used  by  students,  and  that  they  had 
always  to  learn  the  Yeda  by  heart  and  from  the  mouth 
of  a properly  qualified  teacher.  The  very  fact  that  in 
the  later  law-books  severe  punishments  are  threatened 
against  persons  who  copy  the  Yeda  or  learn  it  from  a 
mss.,  shows  that  mss.  existed,  and  that  their  existence 
interfered  seriously  with  the  ancient  privileges  of  the 
Brahmans,  as  the  only  legitimate  teachers  of  their  sacred 
scriptures. 

If  now,  after  having  heard  this  account  of  I-tsing,  we 
go  back  for  about  another  thousand  years,  we  shall  feel 
less  skeptical  in  accepting  the  evidence  which  we  find  in 
the  so-called  Pratisakhyas,  that  is,  collections  of  rules 
which,  so  far  as  we  know  at  present,  go  back  to  the  fifth 
century  before  our  era,  and  which  tell  us  almost  exactly 
the  same  as  what  we  can  see  in  India  at  the  present 
moment,  namely  that  the  education  of  children  of  the 
three  twice-born  castes,  the  Brahmanas,  Kshatriyas,  and 
Yai.syas,  consisted  in  their  passing  at  least  eight  years  in 
the  house  of  a Guru,  and  learning  by  heart  the  ancient 
Yedic  hymns. 

The  art  of  teaching  had  even  at  that  early  time  been 
reduced  to  a perfect  system,  and  at  that  time  certainly 
there  is  not  the  slightest  trace  of  anything,  such  as  a 
book,  or  skin,  or  parchment,  a sheet  of  paper,  pen  or 
ink,  being  known  even  by  name  to  the  people  of  India  ; 
while  every  expression  connected  with  what  we  should 
call  literature,  points  to  a literature  (we  cannot  help 
using  that  word)  existing  in  memory  only,  and  being 
handed  down  with  the  most  scrupulous  care  by  means 
of  oral  tradition. 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


233 


I had  to  enter  into  these  details  because  I know  that, 
with  our  ideas  of  literature,  it  requires  an  effort  to 
imagine  the  bare  possibility  of  a large  amount  of  poetry, 
and  still  more  of  prose,  existing  in  any  but  a written 
form.  And  yet  here  too  we  only  see  what  we  see  else- 
where, namely  that  man,  before  the  great  discoveries  of 
civilization  were  made,  was  able  by  greater  individual 
efforts  to  achieve  what  to  us,  accustomed  to  easier  con- 
trivances, seems  almost  impossible.  So-called  savages 
were  able  to  chip  flints,  to  get  fire  by  rubbing  sticks  of 
wood,  which  baffles  our  handiest  workmen.  Are  we  to 
suppose  that,  if  they  wished  to  preserve  some  songs 
which,  as  they  believed,  had  once  secured  them  the 
favor  of  their  gods,  had  brought  rain  from  heaven,  or 
led  them  on  to  victory,  they  would  have  found  no 
means  of  doing  so  ? We  have  only  to  read  such  accounts 
as,  for  instance,  Mr.  William  Wyatt  Gill  has  given  us 
in  his  “ Historical  Sketches  of  Savage  Life  in  Poly- 
nesia,”* to  see  how  anxious  even  savages  are  to  pre- 
serve the  records  of  their  ancient  heroes,  kings,  and 
gods,  particularly  when  the  dignity  or  nobility  of  certain 
families  depends  on  these  songs,  or  when  they  contain 
what  might  be  called  the  title-deeds  to  large  estates. 
And  that  the  Medic  Indians  were  not  the  only  savages 
of  antiquity  who  discovered  the  means  of  preserving  a 
large  literature  by  means  of  oral  tradition,  we  may  learn 
from  Csesar,f  not  a very  credulous  witness,  who  tells  us 
that  the  “ Druids  were  said  to  know  a large  number  of 
verses  by  heart  ; that  some  of  them  spent  twenty  years 
in  learning  them,  and  that  they  considered  it  wrong  to 
commit  them  to  writing” — exactly  the  same  story  which 
we  hear  in  India. 

* Wellington,  1880.  [p.  506. 

■)■  De  Bello  Gall.  vi.  14  ; “ History  of  Ancient  Sanskrit  Literature,” 


234 


LECTURE  VII. 


We  must  return  once  more  to  the  question  of  dates. 
We  have  traced  the  existence  of  the  Veda,  as  handed 
down  by  oral  tradition,  from  our  days  to  the  days  of 
I-tsiug  in  the  seventh  century  after  Christ,  and  again 
to  the  period  of  the  Pratisakhyas,  in  the  fifth  century 
before  Christ. 

In  that  fifth  century  b.c.  took  place  the  rise  of  Bud- 
dhism, a religion  built  up  on  the  ruins  of  the  Yedic 
religion,  and  founded,  so  to  say,  on  the  denial  of  the 
divine  authority  ascribed  to  the  Yeda  by  all  orthodox 
Brahmans. 

Whatever  exists,  therefore,  of  Vedic  literature  must 
be  accommodated  within  the  centuries  preceding  the  rise 
of  Buddhism,  and  if  I tell  you  that  there  are  three 
periods  of  Yedic  literature  to  be  accommodated,  the 
third  presupposing  the  second,  and  the  second  the  first, 
and  that  even  that  first  period  presents  us  with  a collec- 
tion, and  a systematic  collection  of  Yedic  hymns,  I 
think  you  will  agree  with  me  that  it  is  from  no  desire 
for  an  extreme  antiquity,  but  simply  from  a respect  for 
facts,  that  students  of  the  Yeda  have  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  these  hymns,  of  which  the  mss.  do  not  carry 
us  back  beyond  the  fifteenth  century  after  Christ,  took 
their  origin  in  the  fifteenth  century  before  Christ. 

One  fact  I must  mention  once  more,  because  I think 
it  may  carry  conviction  even  against  the  stoutest  skepti- 
cism. 

I mentioned  that  the  earliest  inscriptions  discovered 
in  India  belong  to  the  reign  of  King  Asoka,  the  grand- 
son of  Aandragupta,  who  reigned  from  259-222  before 
Christ.  What  is  the  language  of  those  inscriptions? 
Is  it  the  Sanskrit  of  the  Yedic  hymns  ? Certainly  not. 
Is  it  the  later  Sanskrit  of  the  Brahmanas  and  Sutras  ? 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


235 


Certainly  not.  These  inscriptions  are  written  in  the 
local  dialects  as  then  spoken  in  India,  and  these  local 
dialects  differ  from  the  grammatical  Sanskrit  about  as 
much  as  Italian  does  from  Latin. 

'What  follows  from  this  ? First,  that  the  archaic 
Sanskrit  of  the  Veda  had  ceased  to  be  spoken  before 
the  third  century  b.c.  Secondly,  that  even  the  later 
grammatical  Sanskrit  was  no  longer  spoken  and  under- 
stood by  the  people  at  large  ; that  Sanskrit  therefore 
had  ceased,  nay,  we  may  say,  had  long  ceased  to  be  the 
spoken  language  of  the  country  when  Buddhism  arose, 
and  that  therefore  the  youth  and  manhood  of  the  ancient 
Vedic  language  lie  far  beyond  the  period  that  gave 
birth  to  the  teaching  of  Buddha,  who,  though  he  may 
have  known  Sanskrit,  and  even  Vedic  Sanskrit,  insisted 
again  and  again  on  the  duty  that  his  disciples  should 
preach  his  doctrines  in  the  language  of  the  people  whom 
they  wished  to  benefit. 

And  now,  when  the  time  allotted  to  me  is  nearly  at 
an  end,  I find,  as  it  always  happens,  that  I have  not 
been  able  to  say  one  half  of  what  I hoped  to  say  as  to 
the  lessons  to  be  learned  by  us  in  India,  even  with  regard 
to  this  one  branch  of  human  knowledge  only,  the  study 
of  the  origin  of  religion.  I hope,  however,  I may  have 
succeeded  in  showing  you  the  entirely  new  aspect  which 
the  old  problem  of  the  theogony , or  the  origin  and 
growth  of  the  Devas  or  gods,  assumes  from  the  light 
thrown  upon  it  by  the  Veda.  Instead  of  positive  the- 
ories, we  now  have  positive  facts,  such  as  you  look  for 
in  vain  anywhere  else  ; and  though  there  is  still  a con- 
siderable interval  between  the  Devas  of  the  Veda,  even 
in  their  highest  form,  and  such  concepts  as  Zeus,  Apol- 
lon, and  Athene,  yet  the  chief  riddle  is  solved,  and  we 


236 


LECTURE  VII. 


know  now  at  last  wliat  stuff  the  gods  of  the  ancient  world 
were  made  of. 

But  this  theogonic  process  is  hut  one  side  of  the 
ancient  Vedic  religion,  and  there  are  two  other  sides  of 
at  least  the  same  importance  and  of  even  a deeper  in- 
terest to  us. 

There  are  in  fact  three  religions  in  the  Veda,  or,  if  I 
may  say  so,  three  naves  in  one  great  temple,  reared,  as 
it  were,  before  our  eyes  by  poets,  prophets,  and  philoso- 
phers. Here  too  Ave  can  Avatcli  the  work  and  the  work- 
men. We  have  not  to  deal  Avith  hard  formulas  only, 
with  unintelligible  ceremonies,  or  petrified  fetiches.  We 
can  see  Iioav  the  human  mind  arrives  by  a perfectly 
rational  process  at  all  its  later  irrationalities.  This  is 
what  distinguishes  the  Veda  from  all  other  Sacred 
Books.  Much,  no  doubt,  in  the  Veda  also,  and  in  the 
Vedic  ceremonial,  is  already  old  and  unintelligible,  hard, 
and  petrified.  But  in  many  cases  the  development  of 
names  and  concepts,  their  transition  from  the  natural  to 
the  supernatural,  from  the  individual  to  the  general,  is 
still  going  on,  and  it  is  for  that  very  reason  that  Ave  find 
it  so  difficult,  nay  almost  impossible,  to  translate  the 
growing  thoughts  of  the  Veda  into  the  full-grown  and 
more  than  full-grown  language  of  our  time. 

Let  us  take  one  of  the  oldest  words  for  god  in  the 
Veda,  such  as  d e v a,  the  Latin  deus.  Ihe  dictionaries  tell 
you  that  d e v a means  god  and  gods,  and  so,  no  doubt, 
it  does.  But  if  we  always  translated  deva  in  the  Vedic 
hymns  by  god,  we  should  not  be  translating,  but  com- 
pletely transforming  the  thoughts  of  the  "Y  edic  poets. 
I do  not  mean  only  that  our  idea  of  God  is  totally 
different  from  the  idea  that  was  intended  to  be  expressed 
by  deva;  but  even  the  Greek  and  Roman  concept  of 
gods  would  be  totally  inadequate  to  convey  the  thoughts 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


23 


imbedded  in  the  Yedic  deva.  D e v a meant  originally 
bright,  and  nothing  else.  Meaning  bright,  it  was  con- 
stantly used  of  the  sky,  the  stars,  the  sun,  the  dawn,  the 
day,  the  spring,  the  rivers,  the  earth  ; and  when  a poet 
wished  to  speak  of  all  of  these  by  one  and  the  same 
word — by  what  we  should  call  a general  term — he  called 
them  D e v a s.  When  that  had  been  done,  Deva  did  no 
longer  mean  “ the  Bright  ones,”  but  the  name  compre- 
hended all  the  qualities  which  the  sky  and  the  sun  and 
the  dawn  shared  in  common,  excluding  only  those  that 
were  peculiar  to  each. 

Here  you  see  how,  by  the  simplest  process,  the 
Devas,  the  bright  ones,  might  become  and  did  become 
the  Devas,  the  heavenly,  the  kind,  the  powerful,  the 
invisible,  the  immortal — and,  in  the  end,  something 
very  like  the  Oeoc  (or  dm)  of  Greeks  and  Romans. 

In  this  way  one  Beyond,  the  Beyond  of  Nature,  was 
built  up  in  the  ancient  religion  of  the  Yeda,  and  peopled 
with  Devas,  and  Asuras,  and  Yasus,  and  Adityas,  all 
names  for  the  bright  solar,  celestial,  diurnal,  and  vernal 
powers  of  nature,  without  altogether  excluding,  how- 
ever, even  the  dark  and  unfriendly  powers,  those  of  the 
night,  of  the  dark  clouds,  or  of  winter,  capable  of  mis- 
chief, but  always  destined  in  the  end  to  succumb  to  the 
valor  and  strength  of  their  bright  antagonists. 

We  now  come  to  the  second  nave  of  the  Yedic  temple, 
the  second  Beyond  that  was  dimly  perceived,  and  grasped 
and  named  by  the  ancient  Rishis,  namely  the  world  of 
the  Departed  Spirits.* 

* See  De  Coulanges,  “ The  Ancient  City,”  Book  I.  II.  “ We  hud 
this  worship  of  the  dead  among  the  Hellenes,  among  the  Latins, 
among  the  Sabines,  among  the  Etruscans  ; we  also  find  it  among  the 
Aryas  of  India.  Mention  is  made  of  it  in  the  hymns  of  the  Rig-Veda. 


238 


LECTURE  VII. 


There  was  in  India,  as  elsewhere,  another  very  early 
faith,  springing  np  naturally  in  the  hearts  of  the  people, 
that  their  fathers  and  mothers,  when  they  departed  this 
life,  departed  to  a Beyond,  wherever  it  might  he,  either 
in  the  East  from  whence  all  the  bright  Devas  seemed 
to  come,  or  more  commonly  in  the  West,  the  land  to 
which  they  seemed  to  go,  called  in  the  Veda  the  realm 
of  Yama  or  the  setting  sun.  The  idea  that  beings  which 
once  had  been,  could  ever  cease  to  be,  had  not  yet 
entered  their  minds  ; and  from  the  belief  that  their 
fathers  existed  somewhere,  though  they  could  see  them 
no  more,  there  arose  the  belief  in  another  Beyond,  and 
the  germs  of  another  religion. 

Nor  was  the  actual  power  of  the  fathers  quite  imper- 
ceptible or  extinct  even  after  their  death.  Their  pres- 
ence continued  to  be  felt  in  the  ancient  laws  and  customs 
of  the  family,  most  of  which  rested  on  their  will  and 
their  authority.  While  their  fathers  were  alive  and 
strong,  their  will  was  law  ; and  when,  after  their  death, 
doubts  or  disputes  arose  on  points  of  law  or  custom,  it 
was  but  natural  that  the  memory  and  the  authority  of 
the  fathers  should  be  appealed  to  to  settle  such  points — 
that  the  law  should  still  be  their  will. 


It  is  spoken  of  in  the  Laws  of  Mann  as  the  most  ancient  worship 
among  men.  . . . Before  men  had  any  notion  of  Indra  or  of  Zeus, 
they  adored  the  dead  ; they  feared  them,  and  addressed  them  prayers. 
It  seems  that  the  religious  sentiment  began  in  this  way.  It  was  per- 
haps while  looking  upon  the  dead  that  man  first  conceived  the  idea 
of  the  supernatural,  and  to  have  a hope  beyond  what  he  saw.  Death 
was  the  first  mystery,  and  it  placed  man  on  the  track  of  other  mys- 
teries. It  raised  his  thoughts  from  the  visible  to  the  invisible,  from 
the  transitory  to  the  eternal,  from  the  human  to  the  divine.” 

The  sacred  fire  represented  the  ancestors,  and  therefore  was  revered 
and  kept  carefully  from  profanation  by  the  presence  of  a stranger. — 
A.  W. 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


239 


Tims  Mann  says  (IV.  178)  : “ On  the  path  on  which 
his  fathers  and  grandfathers  have  walked,  on  that  path 
of  good  men  let  him  walk,  and  he  will  not  go  wrong.” 

In  the  same  manner  then  in  which,  out  of  the  bright 
powers  of  nature,  the  Devas  or  gods  had  arisen,  there 
arose  out  of  predicates  shared  in  common  by  the  departed, 
such  as  pit  ri  s,  fathers,  p r e t a,  gone  away,  another 
general  concept,  what  we  should  call  Manes , the  kind 
ones,  Ancestors,  Shades , Spirits , or  Ghosts , whose  wor- 
ship was  nowhere  more  fully  developed  than  in  India. 
That  common  name,  P i t r i s or  Fathers , gradually  at- 
tracted toward  itself  all  that  the  fathers  shared  in 
common.  It  came  to  mean  not  only  fathers,  but  in- 
visible, kind,  powerful,  immortal,  heavenly  beings,  and 
we  can  watch  in  the  Veda,  better  perhaps  than  anywhere 
else,  the  inevitable,  yet  most  touching  metamorphosis  of 
ancient  thought — the  love  of  the  child  for  father  and 
mother  becoming  transfigured  into  an  instinctive  belief 
in  the  immortality  of  the  soul. 

It  is  strange,  and  really  more  than  strange,  that  not  only 
should  this  important  and  prominent  side  of  the  ancient 
religion  of  the  Hindus  have  been  ignored,  bnt  that  of 
late  its  very  existence  should  have  been  doubted.  I feel 
obliged,  therefore,  to  add  a few  words  in  support  of 
what  I have  said  just  now  of  the  supreme  importance  of 
this  belief  in  and  this  worship  of  ancestral  spirits  in 
India  from  the  most  ancient  to  the  most  modern  times. 
Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  who  has  done  so  much  in  calling 
attention  to  ancestorship  as  a natural  ingredient  of 
religion  among  all  savage  nations,  declares  in  the  most 
emphatic  manner,*  “ that  he  has  seen  it  implied,  that 
he  has  heard  it  in  conversation,  and  that  he  now  has  it 
before  him  in  print,  that  no  Indo-European  or  Semitic 

* “ Principles  of  Sociology,”  p.  313. 


240 


LECTURE  VII. 


nation,  so  far  as  we  know,  seems  to  have  made  a religion 
of  the  worship  of  the  dead.”  I do  not  doubt  his  words, 
but  I think  that  on  so  important  a point,  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer  ought  to  have  named  Ids  authorities.  It  seems 
to  me  almost  impossible  that  anybody  who  has  ever 
opened  a book  on  India  should  have  made  such  a state- 
ment. There  are  hymns  in  the  Rig- Veda  addressed  to 
the  Fathers.  There  are  full  descriptions  of  the  worship 
due  to  the  Fathers  in  the  Brahmawas  and  Sutras.  The 
epic  poems,  the  law  books,  the  Purattas,  all  are  brimful 
of  allusions  to  ancestral  offerings.  The  whole  social 
fabric  of  India,  with  its  laws  of  inheritance  and  mar- 
riage,* rests  on  a belief  in  the  Manes — and  yet  we  are 
told  that  no  Indo-European  nation  seems  to  have  made 
a religion  of  the  worship  of  the  dead. 

The  Persians  had  their  Fravashis,  the  Greeks  their 
fMwAa,  or  rather  their  deol  narpCioi  and  their  Satuovec, 

tadXo),  ItujQovloi,  (pvXaKeg  dvrjrCSv  ai'Opionuv 
oi  pa  (pvAaooovaiv  .rs  d'waS  nal  a^erXia  epya, 
i/epa  kaadptvoL  -dvrrj  (poirCjvTEg  en’  aiav , 

-Aov-odorai  (Hesiodi  Opera  et  Dies,  vv.  122-126)  ;f 

while  among  the  Romans  the  Lares  famiUares  and  the 
Dwi  Manes  were  worshipped  more  zealously  than  any 
other  gods.;}:  Manu  goes  so  far  as  to  tell  us  in  one  place 

* “ The  Hindu  Law  of  Inheritance  is  based  upon  the  Hindu  relig- 
ion, and  we  must  be  cautious  that  in  administering  Hindu  law  we  do 
not,  by  acting  upon  our  notions  derived  from  English  law,  inadver- 
tently wound  or  offend  the  religious  feelings  of  those  who  may  be 
affected  by  our  decisions.” — Bengal  Law  Reports,  103. 
f “ Earth- wandering  demons,  they  their  charge  began, 

The  ministers  of  good  and  guards  of  man  ; 

Veiled  with  a mantle  of  aerial  light, 

O’er  Earth’s  wide  space  they  wing  their  hovering  flight.” 

X Cicero,  “ De  Leg.”  H.  9,  22,  “ Deorum  manium  jura  sancta 
sunto  ; nos  leto  datos  divos  habento.” 


YEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


241 


(III.  203)  : “ An  oblation  by  Brahmans  to  their  ancestor 
transcends  an  oblation  to  the  deities  and  yet  we  are 
told  that  no  Indo-European  nation  seems  to  have  made 
a religion  of  the  worship  of  the  dead. 

Such  things  ought  really  not  to  be,  if  there  is  to  be 
any  progress  in  historical  research,  and  I cannot  help 
thinking  that  what  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  meant  was 
probably  no  more  than  that  some  scholars  did  not  admit 
that  the  worship  of  the  dead  formed  the  whole  of  the 
religion  of  any  of  the  Indo-European  nations.  That, 
no  doubt,  is  perfectly  true,  but  it  would  be  equally  true, 
I believe,  of  almost  any  other  religion.  And  on  this 
point  again  the  students  of  anthropology  will  learn 
more,  1 believe,  from  the  Yeda  than  from  any  other 
book. 

In  the  Yeda  the  Pitres,  or  fathers,  are  invoked  to- 
gether with  the  Devas,  or  gods,  but  they  are  not  con- 
founded with  them.  The  Devas  never  become  PitWs, 
and  though  such  adjectives  as  d e v a are  sometimes  ap- 
plied to  the  PitWs,  and  they  are  raised  to  the  rank  of 
the  older  classes  of  Devas  (Manu  III.  192,  284,  YayAa- 
valkya  I.  268),  it  is  easy  to  see  that  the  PitWs  and  Devas 
had  each  their  independent  origin,  and  that  they  repre- 
sent two  totally  distinct  phases  of  the  human  mind  in 
the  creation  of  its  objects  of  worship.  This  is  a lesson 
which  ought  never  to  be  forgotten. 

We  read  in  the  Rig- Yeda,  YI.  52,  4 : “ May  the 
rising  Dawns  protect  me,  may  the  flowing  Rivers  pro- 
tect me,  may  the  firm  Mountains  protect  me,  may  the 
Fathers  protect  me  at  this  invocation  of  the  gods.” 
Here  nothing  can  be  clearer  than  the  separate  existence 
of  the  Fathers,  apart  from  the  Dawns,  the  Rivers,  and 
the  Mountains,  though  they  are  included  in  one  common 
Devahuti,  however,  or  invocation  of  the  gods. 


242 


LECTURE  VII. 


We  must  distinguish,  however,  from  the  very  first, 
between  two  classes,  or  rather  between  two  concepts  of 
Fathers,  the  one  comprising  the  distant,  half -forgotten, 
and  almost  mythical  ancestors  of  certain  families  or  of 
what  would  have  been  to  the  poets  of  the  Yeda,  the 
whole  human  race,  the  other  consisting  of  the  fathers 
who  had  but  lately  departed,  and  who  were  still,  as  it 
were,  personally  remembered  and  revered. 

The  old  ancestors  in  general  approach  more  nearly  to 
the  gods.  They  are  often  represented  as  having  gone  to 
the  abode  of  Yama,  the  ruler  of  the  departed,  and  to 
live  there  in  company  with  some  of  the  Devas  (Rig- Yeda 
YII.  76,  4,  devanam  sadhamadaA  ; Rig- Yeda  X.  16,  1, 
devanam  vasaniA). 

We  sometimes  read  of  the  great-grandfathers  being  in 
heaven,  the  grandfathers  in  the  sky,  the  fathers  on  the 
earth,  the  first  in  company  with  the  Adityas,  the  second 
with  the  Rudras,  the  last  with  the  Yasus.  All  these  are 
individual  poetical  conceptions.* 

Yama  himself  is  sometimes  invoked  as  if  he  were  one 
of  the  Fathers,  the  first  of  mortals  that  died  or  that  trod 
the  path  of  the  Fathers  (the  pitm'yima,  X.  2,  7)  leading 
to  the  common  sunset  in  the  West.f  Still  his  r.eal 
Deva-like  nature  is  never  completely  lost,  and,  as  the 
god  of  the  setting  sun,  lie  is  indeed  the  leader  of  the 
Fathers,  but  not  one  of  the  Fathers  himself.:}: 

Many  of  the  benefits  which  men  enjoyed  on  earth 
were  referred  to  the  Fathers,  as  having  first  been  pro- 

* See  Atharva-Veda  XVIII.  2,  49. 

f Rig-Veda  X.  14,  1-2.  He  is  called  Vaivasvata,  the  solar  (X.  58,  1), 
and  even  the  son  of  Vivasvat  (X.  14,  5).  In  a later  phase  of  religious 
thought  Yama  is  conceived  as  the  first  man  (Atharva-Veda  XVIII.  3, 
13,  as  compared  with  Big-Veda  X.  14,  1). 

X Rig-Veda  X.  14. 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


243 


cured  and  first  enjoyed  by  them.  They  performed  the 
first  sacrifices,  and  secured  the  benefits  arising  from 
them.  Even  the  great  events  in  nature,  such  as  the 
rising  of  the  sun,  the  light  of  the  day  and  the  darkness 
of  the  night,  were  sometimes  referred  to  them,  and  they 
were  praised  for  having  broken  open  the  dark  stable  of 
the  morning  and  having  brought  out  the  cows,  that  is, 
the  days  (X.  68,  11).* * * §  They  were  even  praised  for 
having  adorned  the  night  with  stars,  while  in  later 
writing  the  stars  are  said  to  be  the  lights  of  the  good 
people  who  have  entered  into  heaven,  f Similar  ideas, 
we  know,  prevailed  among  the  ancient  Persians,  Greeks, 
and  Romans.  The  Fathers  are  called  in  the  Veda 
truthful  (satya),  wise  (suvidatra),  righteous  (Wtavat), 
poets  (kavi),  leaders  (patliikrit),  and  one  of  their  most 
frequent  epithets  is  somya,  delighting  in  Soma,  Soma 
being  the  ancient  intoxicating  beverage  of  the  Vedic 
iik'shis,  which  was  believed  to  bestow  immortality,  £ but 
which  had  been  lost,  or  at  all  events  had  become  difficult 
to  obtain  by  the  Aryans,  after  their  migration  into  the 
Punjab.  § 

The  families  of  the  BhWgus,  the  Angiras,  the  Athar- 
vans  | all  have  their  Pitr/s  or  Fathers,  who  are  invoked 
to  sit  down  on  the  grass  and  to  accept  the  offerings 
placed  there  for  them.  Even  the  name  of  PitWyayvTa, 
sacrifice  of  the  Fathers,  occurs  already  in  the  hymns  of 
the  Rig-Veda.^f 

The  following  is  one  of  the  hymns  of  the  Rig- Veda  by 

* In  the  Avesta  many  of  these  things  are  clone  by  Ahura-Mazda 
with  the  help  of  the  Fravashis. 

f See  Satapatha  Brahmana  I.  9,  3,  10  ; VI.  6,  4,  8. 

t Rig-Veda  VIII.  48,  3 : “ We  drank  Soma,  we  became  immortal, 
we  went  to  the  light,  we  found  the  gods  VIII.  48,  12. 

§ Rig-Veda  IX.  97,  39.  ||  L.  c.  X.  14,  G.  f L.  c.  X.  1G,  10. 


244 


LECTURE  VII. 


which  those  ancient  Fathers  were  invited  to  come  to 

their  sacrifice  (Rig-veda  X.  15)  : * 

1.  “May  the  Soma-loving  Fathers,  the  lowest,  the 

highest,  and  the  middle,  arise.  May  the  gentle  and 

righteous  Fathers  who  have  come  to  life  (again),  protect 
® . . 
ns  in  these  invocations  ! 

2.  “ May  this  salutation  he  for  the  Fathers  to-day,  for 
those  who  have  departed  before  or  after  ; whether  they 
now  dwell  in  the  sky  above  the  earth,  or  among  the 
blessed  people. 

3.  “I  invited  the  wise  Fathers  . . . may  they 

come  hither  quickly,  and  sitting  on  the  grass  readily 
partake  of  the  poured-out  draught  ! 

4 “ Come  hither  to  us  with  your  help,  you  Fathers 
who  sit  on  the  grass  ! We  have  prepared  these  libations 
for  you,  accept  them  ! Come  hither  with  your  most 
blessed  protection,  and  give  us  health  and  wealth  with- 
out fail  ! nji  -.1 

5.  “ The  Soma-loving  Fathers  have  been  called  hither 

to  their  dear  viands  which  are  placed  on  the  grass.  Let 
them  approach,  let  them  listen,  let  them  bless,  let  them 

protect  us  ! _ 

6.  “ Bending  your  knee  and  sitting  on  my  right,  ac- 
cept all  this  sacrifice.  Do  not  hurt  us,  O Fathers,  foi 
any  wrong  that  we  may  have  committed  against  you, 

men  as  we  are. 

7.  “ When  you  sit  down  on  the  lap  of  the  red  dawns, 

grant  wealth  to  the  generous  mortal  ! 0 Fathers,  give 

of  your  treasure  to  the  sons  of  this  man  here,  and  bestow 
vigor  here  on  us  ! 

8 “ May  Yama,  as  a friend  with  friends,  consume 
the  offerings  according  to  his  wish,  united  with  those  old 

* A translation  considerably  differing  from  my  own  is  given  by 
Sarvadhikari  in  bis  “ Tagore  Lectures  for  1880,”  p.  34. 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


245 


Soma-loving  Fathers  of  ours,  the  YasishtfAas,  who  ar- 
ranged the  Soma  draught. 

9.  “ Come  hither,  O Agui,  with  those  wise  and  truth- 
ful Fathers  who  like  to  sit  down  near  the  hearth,  who 
thirsted  when  yearning  for  the  gods,  who  knew  the 
sacrifice,  and  who  were  strong  in  praise  with  their  songs. 

10.  “ Come,  O Agni,  with  those  ancient  fathers  who 
like  to  sit  down  near  the  hearth,  who  forever  praise 
the  gods,  the  truthful,  who  eat  and  drink  our  oblations, 
making  company  with  Indra  and  the  gods. 

11.  “ O Fathers,  you  who  have  been  consumed  by 
Agni,  come  here,  sit  down  on  your  seats,  you  kind 
guides  ! Eat  of  the  offerings  which  we  have  placed  on 
the  turf,  and  then  grant  us  wealth  and  strong  offspring  ! 

12.  “ O Agni,  O 6r;itavedas,‘x'  at  our  request  thou 
hast  carried  the  offerings,  having  first  rendered  them 
sweet.  Thou  gavest  them  to  the  Fathers,  and  they  fed 
on  their  share.  Eat  also,  0 god,  the  proffered  obla- 
tions ! 

13.  “ The  Fathers  who  are  here,  and  the  Fathers  who 
are  not  here,  those  whom  we  know,  and  those  whom  we 
know  not,  thou  f?ata vedas,  knowest  how  many  they  are, 
accept  the  well-made  sacrifice  with  the  sacrificial  por- 
tions ! 

14.  “ To  those  who,  whether  burned  by  fire  or  not 
burned  by  fire,  rejoice  in  their  share  in  the  midst  of 
heaven,  grant  thou,  0 King,  that  their  body  may  take 
that  life  which  they  wish  for  !”f 

* Cf.  Max  Muller,  Kig-Veda,  transl.  vol.  i.  p.  24. 

f In  a previous  note  will  be  found  the  statement  by  Professor  De 
Coulanges,  of  Strasburg,  that  in  India,  as  in  other  countries,  a belief 
in  the  ancestral  spirits  came  first,  and  a belief  in  divinities  afterward. 
Professor  Muller  cites  other  arguments  which  might  be  employed  in 
support  of  such  a theory.  The  name  of  the  oldest  and  greatest 


246 


LECTURE  VII. 


Distinct  from  the  worship  offered  to  these  primitive 
ancestors,  is  the  reverence  which  from  an  early  time  was 
felt  to  be  due  by  children  to  their  departed  father,  soon 
also  to  their  grandfather,  and  great-grandfather.  The 
ceremonies  in  which  these  more  personal  feelings  found 


among  the  Devas,  for  instance,  is  not  simply  Dyaus,  but  Dyaush-pita, 
Heaven-Father  ; and  there  are  several  names  of  the  same  character, 
not  only  in  Sanskrit,  but  in  Greek  and  Latin  also.  Jupiter  and  Zeus 
Pater  are  forms  of  the  appellation  mentioned,  and  mean  the  Father  in 
Heaven.  It  does  certainly  look  as  though  Dyaus,  the  sky,  had  be- 
come personal  and  worshipped  only  after  he  had  been  raised  to  the 
category  of  a Pitri,  a father  ; and  that  this  predicate  of  Father  must 
have  been  elaborated  first  before  it  could  have  been  used,  to  compre- 
hend Dyaus,  the  sky,  Varuna,  and  other  Devas.  Professor  Muller, 
however,  denies  that  this  is  the  whole  truth  in  the  case.  The  Vedic 
poets,  he  remarks,  believed  in  Devas — gods,  if  we  must  so  call  them 
—literally,  the  bright  ones  ; Pitn's,  fathers  ; and  Manushyas,  men, 
mortals.  (Atharva-Veda,  X.  6,  32.)  Who  came  first  and  who  came 
after  it  is  difficult  to  say  ; but  as  soon  as  the  three  were  placed  side 
by  side,  the  Devas  certainly  stood  the  highest,  then  followed  the 
Pitris,  and  last  came  the  mortals.  Ancient  thought  did  not  compre- 
hend the  three  under  one  concept,  but  it  paved  the  way  to  it.  The 
mortals  after  passing  through  death  became  Fathers,  and  the  Fathers 
became  the  companions  of  the  Devas. 

In  Manu  there  is  an  advance  beyond  this  point.  The  world,  all 
that  moves  and  rests,  we  are  told  (Manu  III.,  201),  has  been  made  by 
the  Devas  ; but  the  Devas  and  Danavas  were  born  of  the  Pitris,  and 
the  Pitris  of  the  Pishis.  Originally  the  Kishis  were  the  poets  of  the 
Vedas,  seven  in  number  ; and  we  are  not  told  how  they  came  to  be 
placed  above  the  Devas  and  Pitris.  It  does  not,  however,  appear 
utterly  beyond  the  power  to  solve.  The  Vedas  were  the  production 
of  the  /iish'is,  and  the  Pitris,  being  perpetuated  thus  to  human  mem- 
ory, became  by  a figure  of  speech  their  offspring.  The  Devas  sprung 
from  the  Pitris,  because  it  was  usual  to  apotheosize  the  dead.  “ Our 
ancestors  desired,”  says  Cicero,  “ that  the  men  who  had  quitted  this 
life  should  be  counted  in  the  number  of  gods.”  Again,  the  concep- 
tion of  patrons  or  Pitris  to  each  family  and  tribe  naturally  led  to  the 
idea  of  a Providence  over  all  ; and  so  the  Pitri  begat  the  Deva.  This 
religion  preceded  and  has  outlasted  the  other. — A.  W. 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


247 


expression  were  of  a more  domestic  character,  and  al- 
lowed therefore  of  greater  local  variety. 

It  would  be  quite  impossible  to  give  here  even  an 
abstract  only  of  the  minute  regulations  which  have  been 
preserved  to  us  in  the  Brahmanas,  the  iSrauta,  Grdiya, 
and  SamayaMrika  Sutras,  the  Law-books,  and  a mass  of 
later  manuals  on  the  performance  of  endless  rites,  all 
intended  to  honor  the  Departed.  Such  are  the  minute 
prescriptions  as  to  times  and  seasons,  as  to  altars  and 
offerings,  as  to  the  number  and  shape  of  the  sacrificial 
vessels,  as  to  the  proper  postures  of  the  sacrificers,  and 
the  different  arrangements  of  the  vessels,  that  it  is 
extremely  difficult  to  catch  hold  of  what  we  really  care 
for,  namely,  the  thoughts  and  intentions  of  those  who 
first  devised  all  these  intricacies.  Much  has  been 
written  on  this  class  of  sacrifices  by  European  scholars 
also,  beginning  with  Colebrooke’s  excellent  essays  on 
“The  Religious  Ceremonies  of  the  Hindus,”  first  pub- 
lished in  the  “ Asiatic  Researches,”  vol.  v.  Calcutta, 
1798.  But  when  we  ask  the  simple  question,  What  was 
the  thought  from  whence  all  this  outward  ceremonial 
sprang,  and  what  was  the  natural  craving  of  the  human 
heart  which  it  seemed  to  satisfy,  we  hardly  get  an  in- 
telligible answer  anywhere.  It  is  true  that  Araddhas 
continue  to  be  performed  all  over  India  to  the  present 
day,  but  we  know  how  widely  the  modern  ceremonial 
has  diverged  from  the  rules  laid  down  in  the  old  Aastras, 
and  it  is  quite  clear  from  the  descriptions  given  to  us  by 
recent  travellers  that  no  one  can  understand  the  purport 
even  of  these  survivals  of  the  old  ceremonial,  unless  he 
understands  Sanskrit  and  can  read  the  old  Sutras.  We 
are  indeed  told  in  full  detail  how  the  cakes  were  made 
which  the  Spirits  were  supposed  to  eat,  how  many  stalks 
of  grass  were  to  be  used  on  which  they  had  to  be  offered, 


248 


LECTURE  VII. 


how  long  each  stalk  ought  to  he,  and  in  what  direction 
it  should  he  held.  All  the  things  which  teach  us  noth- 
ing are  explained  to  us  in  abundance,  but  the  few  things 
which  the  true  scholar  really  cares  for  are  passed  over, 
as  if  they  had  no  interest  to  us  at  all,  and  have  to  be 
discovered  under  heaps  of  rubbish. 

In  order  to  gain  a little  light,  I think  we  ought  to 
distinguish  between — 

1.  The  daily  ancestral  sacrifice,  the  PitWyay«a,  as 
one  of  the  five  Great  Sacrifices  (Mahay ay/Tas)  ; 

2.  The  monthly  ancestral  sacrifice,  the  PmcZa-pitW- 
yaywa,  as  part  of  the  New  and  Full-moon  sacrifice  ; 

3.  The  funeral  ceremonies  on  the  death  of  a house- 
holder ; 

4.  The  Agapes,  or  feasts  of  love  and  charity,  com- 
monly called  Araddhas,  at  which  food  and  other  chari- 
table gifts  were  bestowed  on  deserving  persons  in 
memory  of  the  deceased  ancestors.  The  name  of 
Araddha  belongs  properly  to  this  last  class  only,  but 
it  has  been  transferred  to  the  second  and  third  class  of 
sacrifices  also,  because  Araddha  formed  an  important 
part  in  them. 

The  daily  PitWyay;1a  or  Ancestor-worship  is  one  of 
the  five  sacrifices,  sometimes  called  the  Great  Sacrifices, '* 
which  every  married  man  ought  to  perform  day  by  day. 
They  are  mentioned  in  the  Grihyasutras  (Asv.  III.  1), 
as  Devayay/la,  for  the  Devas,  Bhutayaywa,  for  animals, 
etc.,  PitHyay«a,  for  the  Fathers,  Brahmayaywa,  for 
Brahman,  i.e.  study  of  the  Yeda,  and  Manushyayaywa, 
for  men,  i.e.  hospitality,  etc. 


* Satapatha  Brfilimana  XI.  5,  G,  1 ; Taitt.  Ar.  II.  11,  10  ; A.svalayana 
Gribya-sutras  III.  1,1;  Paraskara  Grihya-sutras  II.  9, 1 ; Apastamba, 
Dharcna-sutras,  translated  by  Biibler,  pp.  47  seq. 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


240 


» 


Manu  (III.  70)  tells  us  the  same,  namely,  that  a 
married  man  has  five  great  religious  duties  to  perform  : 

1.  The  Brahma-sacrifice,  i.e.  the  studying  and  teach- 
ing of  the  Yeda  (sometimes  called  Ahuta). 

2.  The  Pitr /-sacrifice,  i.e.  the  offering  of  cakes  and 
water  to  the  Manes  (sometimes  called  Prasita). 

3.  The  Deva-sacrifice,  i.e.  the  offering  of  oblations  to 
the  gods  (sometimes  called  Huta). 

4.  The  Bhuta-sacrifice,  i.e.  the  giving  of  food  to  living 
creatures  (sometimes  called  Prahuta). 

5.  The  Manushya -sacrifice,  i.e.  the  receiving  of  guests 
with  hospitality  (sometimes  called  Bnihmya  huta).* 

The  performance  of  this  daily  Pitrfyay«a  seems  to 
have  been  extremely  simple.  The  householder  had  to 
put  his  sacred  cord  on  the  right  shoulder,  to  say 
“ Svadlia  to  the  Fathers,”  and  to  throw  the  remains 
of  certain  offerings  toward  the  south. f 

The  human  impulse  to  this  sacrifice,  if  sacrifice  it  can 
be  called,  is  clear  enough.  The  five  “ great  sacrifices” 
comprehended  in  early  times  the  whole  duty  of  man 
from  day  to  day.  They  were  connected  with  his  daily 
meal 4 When  this  meal  was  preparing,  and  before  he 
could  touch  it  himself,  he  was  to  offer  something  to  the 
gods,  a Yaisvadeva  offering, § in  which  the  chief  deities 
were  Agni,  fire,  Soma  the  Yi.we  Devas,  Dhanvantari, 
the  kind  of  Aesculapius,  Kuhu  and  Anumati  (phases  of 
the  moon),  Prayapati,  lord  of  creatures,  Dyava-pWthivi, 
Heaven  and  Earth,  and  SvislhakWt,  the  fire  on  the 
hearth.  || 

* In  tlie  iSTinktiayana  Grikya  (I.  5)  four  Pfika-ya^ftas  are  mentioned, 
called  Huta,  aliuta,  prahuta,  prusita. 

f A.sv.  Grihya-siitras  I.  3,  10. 

j Manu  III.  117-118.  § L.  c.  IH.  85. 

||  See  Des  Coulanges,  “ Ancient  City,”  I.  3.  “Especially  were  the 


250 


LECTURE  VII. 


After  having  thus  satisfied  the  gods  in  the  four 
quarters,  the  householder  had  to  throw  some  oblations 
into  the  open  air,  which  were  intended  for  animals,  and 
in  some  cases  for  invisible  beings,  ghosts  and  such  like. 
Then  he  was  to  remember  the  Departed,  the  PitWs,  with 
some  offerings  ; but  even  after  having  done  this  he  was 
not  yet  to  begin  his  own  repast,  unless  he  had  also  given 
something  to  strangers  (atithis). 

When  all  this  had  been  fulfilled,  and  when,  besides, 
the  householder,  as  we  should  say,  had  said  his  daily 
prayers,  or  repeated  what  he  had  learned  of  the  Yeda, 
then  and  then  only  was  he  in  harmony  with  the  world 
that  surrounded  him,  the  five  Great  Sacrifices  had  been 
performed  by  him,  and  he  was  free  from  all  the  sins 
arising  from  a thoughtless  and  selfish  life. 

This  Pitriyaywa,  as  one  of  the  five  daily  sacrifices,  is 
described  in  the  Brahmanas,  the  GWhya  and  Samay- 

meals  of  the  family  religious  acts.  The  god  [the  sacred  fire]  pre- 
sided there.  He  had  cooked  the  bread  and  prepared  the  food  ; a 
prayer,  therefore,  was  due  at  the  beginning  and  end  of  the  repast. 
Before  eating,  they  placed  upon  the  altar  the  first  fruits  of  the  food  ; 
before  drinking,  they  poured  out  a libation  of  wine.  This  was  the 
god’s  portion.  No  one  doubted  that  he  was  present,  that  he  ate  and 
drank  ; for  did  they  not  see  the  flame  increase  as  if  it  had  been  nour- 
ished by  the  provisions  offered  ? Thus  the  meal  was  divided  between 
the  man  and  the  god.  It  was  a sacred  ceremony,  by  which  they  held 
communion  with  each  other.  . . . The  religion  of  the  sacred  fire 

dates  from  the  distant  and  dim  epoch  when  there  were  yet  no  Greeks, 
no  Italians,  no  Hindus,  when  there  were  only  Aryas.  When  the 
tribes  separated  they  earned  this  worship  with  them,  some  to  the 
banks  of  the  Ganges,  others  to  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean.  . . . 
Each  group  chose  its  own  gods,  but  all  preserved  as  an  ancient 
legacy  the  first  religion  which  they  had  known  and  practiced  in  the 
common  cradle  of  their  race.  ’ ’ 

The  fire  in  the  house  denoted  the  ancestor,  or  pitri,  and  in  turn 
the  serpent  was  revered  as  a living  fire,  and  so  an  appropriate  symbol 
of  the  First  Father. — A.  W. 


Veda  and  vedanta. 


251 


a&arika  Sutras,  and,  of  course,  in  the  legal  Samhitas. 
Rajendralal  Mitra*  informs  us  that  “ orthodox  Brah- 
mans to  this  day  profess  to  observe  all  these  five  cere- 
monies, but  that  in  reality  only  the  offerings  to  the  gods 
and  manes  are  strictly  observed,  while  the  reading  is 
completed  by  the  repetition  of  the  Gayatri  only,  and 
charity  and  feeding  of  animals  are  casual  and  uncer- 
tain.” 

Quite  different  from  this  simple  daily  ancestral  offering 
is  the  Pitmyay^a  or  Pi/iAi-pitmyay«a,  which  forms  part 
of  many  of  the  statutable  sacrifices,  and,  first  of  all,  of 
the  New  and  Full-moon  sacrifice.  Here  again  the 
human  motive  is  intelligible  enough.  It  was  the  con- 
templation of  the  regular  course  of  nature,  the  dis- 
covery of  order  in  the  coming  and  going  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  the  growing  confidence  in  some  ruling  power  of 
the  world  which  lifted  man’s  thoughts  from  his  daily 
work  to  higher  regions,  and  filled  his  heart  with  a desire 
to  approach  these  higher  powers  with  praise,  thanks- 
giving, and  offerings.  And  it  was  at  such  moments  as 
the  waning  of  the  moon  that  his  thoughts  would  most 
naturally  turn  to  those  whose  life  had  waned,  whose 
bright  faces  were  no  longer  visible  on  earth,  his  fathers 
or  ancestors.  Therefore  at  the  very  beginning  of  the 
New-moon  sacrifice,  we  are  told  in  the  Brahmaraisf  and 
in  the  Arauta-sutras,  that  a Pitriyayw,  a sacrifice  to  the 
Fathers,  has  to  be  performed.  A Aaru  or  pie  had  to  be 
prepared  in  the  Dakshmagni,  the  southern  fire,  and  the 
offerings,  consisting  of  water  and  round  cakes  (pizzas), 
were  specially  dedicated  to  father,  grandfather,  and 
great-grandfather,  while  the  wife  of  the  sacrificer,  if 

* “ Taittiriyaranyaka, ’ ’ Preface,  p.  23. 

f Masi  masi  vo  ’sanam  iti  srute/i  ; Gobliiliya  CfWliya  sutras,  p.  1055. 


252 


LECTURE  VII. 


she  wished  for  a son,  was  allowed  to  eat  one  of  the 
cakes.* 

Similar  ancestral  offerings  took  place  during  other 
sacrifices  too,  of  which  the  New  and  Full-moon  sacrifices 
form  the  general  type. 

It  may  be  quite  true  that  these  two  kinds  of  ancestral 
sacrifices  have  the  same  object  and  share  the  same  name, 
but  their  character  is  different  ; and  if,  as  has  often  been 
the  case,  they  are  mixed  up  together,  we  lose  the  most 
important  lessons  which  a study  of  the  ancient  cere- 
monial should  teach  us.  I cannot  describe  the  difference 
between  these  two  PitWyaynas  more  decisively  than  by 
pointing  out  that  the  former  was  performed  by  the  father 
of  a family,  or,  if  we  may  say  so,  by  a layman,  the  latter 
by  a regular  priest,  or  a class  of  priests,  selected  by  the 
sacrificer  to  act  in  his  behalf.  As  the  Hindus  them- 
selves would  put  it,  the  former  is  a grthya,  a domestic, 
the  latter  a srauta,  a priestly  ceremony,  f 

We  now  come  to  a third  class  of  ceremonies  which  are 
likewise  domestic  and  personal,  but  which  differ  from 
the  two  preceding  ceremonies  by  their  occasional  char- 
acter, I mean  the  funeral,  as  distinct  from  the  ancestral 
ceremonies.  In  one  respect  these  funeral  ceremonies 
may  represent  an  earlier  phase  of  worship  than  the  daily 
and  monthly  ancestral  sacrifices.  They  lead  up  to  them, 

* See  Pmdapitriyagrna,  von  Dr.  O.  Donner,  1870.  The  restriction 
to  three  ancestors,  father,  grandfather,  and  great-grandfather,  occurs 
in  the  Va</asaneyi-sa?nhita,  XIX.  36-37. 

f There  is,  however,  great  variety  in  these  matters,  according  to 
different  sakhas.  Thus,  according  to  the  Gobliila-sakha,  the  Pinda 
Pitriyayna  is  to  he  considered  as  srnarta,  not  as  srauta  (pinda-pitriya- 
gn&h  khalv  asmafcMakhayam  nasti)  ; while  others  maintain  that  an 
agnimat  should  perform  the  srnarta,  a srautagnimat  the  srauta  Pitriya- 
gna.  ; see  Gobhiliya  Grihya-sutras,  p.  671.  On  page  667  we  read  : 
anagner  amavasyasraddha,  nanvaharyam  ity  adara/uyam. 


Veda  and  vedanta. 


253 


and,  as  it  were,  prepare  the  departed  for  their  future 
dignity  as  Pitrfs  or  Ancestors.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
conception  of  Ancestors  in  general  must  have  existed 
before  any  departed  person  could  have  been  raised  to  that 
rank,  and  I therefore  preferred  to  describe  the  ancestral 
sacrifices  first. 

Nor  need  I enter  here  very  fully  into  the  character  of 
the  special  funeral  ceremonies  of  India.  I described 
them  in  a special  paper,  “ On  Sepulture  and  Sacrificial 
Customs  in  the  Veda,”  nearly  thirty  years  ago.*  Their 
spirit  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  funeral  ceremonies  of 
Greeks,  Romans,  Slavonic,  and  Teutonic  nations,  and 
the  coincidences  between  them  all  are  often  most  sur- 
prising. 

In  Vedic  times  the  people  in  India  both  burned  and 
buried  their  dead,  and  they  did  this  with  a certain 
solemnity,  and,  after  a time,  according  to  fixed  rules. 
Their  ideas  about  the  status  of  the  departed,  after  their 
body  had  been  burned  and  their  ashes  buried,  varied 
considerably,  but  in  the  main  they  seem  to  have  believed 
in  a life  to  come,  not  very  different  from  our  life  on 
earth,  and  in  the  power  of  the  departed  to  confer  bless- 
ings on  their  descendants.  It  soon  therefore  became  the 
interest  of  the  survivors  to  secure  the  favor  of  then- 
departed  friends  by  observances  and  offerings  which,  at 
first,  were  the  spontaneous  manifestation  of  human 
feelings,  hut  which  soon  became  traditional,  technical, 
in  fact,  ritual. 

On  the  day  on  which  the  corpse  had  been  burned,  the 
relatives  (samanodakas)  bathed  and  poured  out  a handful 
of  water  to  the  deceased,  pronouncing  his  name  and  that 


* “ Uber  Todtenbestattung  und  Opfergebr&uche  im  Veda,  in  Zeit- 
schrift  der  Deutsclien  Morgenlandischen  Gesellschaft,”  vol.  ix.  1856. 


254 


LECTURE  VII. 


of  liis  family.*  At  sunset  they  returned  home,  and,  as 
was  but  natural,  they  were  told  to  cook  nothing  during 
the  first  night,  and  to  observe  certain  rules  during  the 
next  day  up  to  ten  days,  according  to  the  character  of  the 
deceased.  These  were  days  of  mourning,  or,  as  they 
were  afterward  called,  days  of  impurity,  when  the 
mourners  withdrew  from  contact  with  the  world,  and 
shrank  by  a natural  impulse  from  the  ordinary  occupa- 
tions and  pleasures  of  life.f 

Then  followed  the  collecting  of  the  ashes  on  the  lltli, 
13tli,  or  15th  day  of  the  dark  half  of  the  moon.  On 
returning  from  thence  they  bathed,  and  then  offered 
what  was  called  a Araddha  to  the  departed. 

This  word  Araddha,  which  meets  us  here  for  the  first 
time,  is  full  of  interesting  lessons,  if  only  properly  under- 
stood. First  of  all  it  should  he  noted  that  it  is  absent, 
not  only  from  the  hymns,  but,  so  far  as  we  know  at 
present,  even  from  the  ancient  Bralimawas.  It  seems 
therefore  a word  of  a more  modern  origin.  There  is  a 
passage  in  Apastamba’s  Dhanna-sutras  which  betrays,  on 
the  part  of  the  author,  a consciousness  of  the  more 
modern  origin  of  the  Araddlias  : \ 

“ Formerly  men  and  gods  lived  together  in  this 
world.  Then  the  gods  in  reward  of  their  sacrifices  went 
to  heaven,  but  men  were  left  behind.  Those  men  who 
perform  sacrifices  in  the  same  manner  as  the  gods  did, 
dwelt  (after  death)  with  the  gods  and  Brahman  in 
heaven.  Now  (seeing  men  left  behind)  Manu  revealed 

* Asvalayana  Grihya-sutras  IV.  4,  10. 

•)•  Manu  V.  64-65. 

\ Biihler,  Apastamba,  “ Sacred  Books  of  tko  East,”  vol.  ii.,  p.  138  ! 
also  “Sraddliakalpa,”  p.  890.  Though  the  Sraddha  is  prescribed  in 
the  “ Gobhiliya  Grihya-sutras,”  IV.  4,  2-3,  it  is  not  described  there, 
but  in  a separate  treatise,  the  Sraddha-kalpa. 


YEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


255 


this  ceremony  which  is  designated  by  the  word  /S'rad- 
dha.” 

/S'raddha  has  assumed  many  * meanings,  and  Manu,f  for 
instance,  uses  it  almost  synonymously  with  pitrfyay^a. 
But  its  original  meaning  seems  to  have  been  “ that  which 
is  given  with  sraddha  or  faith,  i.e.  charity  bestowed  on 
deserving  persons,  and,  more  particularly,  on  Brali- 
marcas.  The  gift  was  called  sraddha,  but  the  act  itself 
also  was  called  by  the  same  name.  The  word  is  best 
explained  by  Narayana  in  his  commentary  on  the 
Grfhya-sutras  of  Asvalayana  (IV.  7),  “ Araddha  is  that 
which  is  given  in  faith  to  Brahmans  for  the  sake  of  the 
Fathers. 

Such  charitable  gifts  flowed  most  naturally  and  abun- 
dantly at  the  time  of  a man’s  death,  or  whenever  his 
memory  was  revived  by  happy  or  unhappy  events  in  a 
family,  and  hence  £raddlia  has  become  the  general  name 
for  ever  so  many  sacred  acts  commemorative  of  the 
departed.  We  hear  of  /SVaddhas  not  only  at  funerals, 
but  at  joyous  events  also,  when  presents  were  bestowed 
in  the  name  of  the  family,  and  therefore  in  the  name  of 
the  ancestors  also,  on  all  who  had  a right  to  that  distinc- 
tion. 

It  is  a mistake  therefore  to  look  upon  Si’addhas  simply 
as  offerings  of  water  or  cakes  to  the  Fathers.  An  offer- 

* As  meaning  the  food,  sraddha  occurs  in  sraddhabhu^r  and  similar 
words.  As  meaning  the  sacrificial  act,  it  is  explained,  yatraitafc 
Mraddhaya,  diyate  tad  eva  karma  sraddhasabdabhidheyam.  Pretam 
pitrims  fca  nirdisya  bhojyam  yat  priyam  atmana h sraddhaya  diyate 
yatra  tafc  Mraddham  parikirtitam.  “ Gobhiliya  Grihya-sutras,”  p. 
892.  We  also  read  sraddhanvita/i  sraddham  kurvita,  “let  a man 
perform  the  sraddha  with  faith;”  “Gobhiliya  Grihya-sutras,’’  p. 
1053.  f Manu  III.  82. 

t Pi  trill  uddisya  yad  diyate  brfihmanebhya/t  sraddhaya  tafc  AAradd 
ham. 


256 


LECTURE  VII. 


ingto  the  Fathers  was,  no  doubt,  a symbolic  part  of  each 
Araddha,  but  its  more  important  character  was  charity 
bestowed  in  memory  of  the  Fathers. 

This,  in  time,  gave  rise  to  much  abuse,  like  the  alms 
bestowed  on  the  Church  during  the  Middle  Ages.  But 
in  the  beginning  the  motive  was  excellent.  It  was 
simply  a wish  to  benefit  others,  arising  from  the  convic- 
tion, felt  more  strongly  in  the  presence  of  death  than  at 
any  other  time,  that  as  we  can  carry  nothing  out  of  this 
world,  we  ought  to  do  as  much  good  as  possible  in  the 
world  with  our  worldly  goods.  At  Araddhas  the  Brah- 
manas  were  said  to  represent  the  sacrificial  fire  into 
which  the  gifts  should  be  thrown.*  If  we  translate 
here  Brahmanas  by  priests,  we  can  easily  understand 
why  there  should  have  been  in  later  times  so  strong 
a feeling  against  Araddhas.  But  priest  is  a very  bad 
rendering  of  Brahma/ia.  The  Bralnnanas  were,  socially 
and  intellectually,  a class  of  men  of  high  breeding. 
They  were  a recognized  and,  no  doubt,  a most  essential 
element  in  the  ancient  society  of  India.  As  they  lived 
for  others,  and  were  excluded  from  most  of  the  lucrative 
pursuits  of  life,  it  was  a social,  and  it  soon  became  a 
religious  duty,  that  they  should  be  supported  by  the 
community  at  large.  Great  care  was  taken  that  the 
recipients  of  such  bounty  as  was  bestowed  at  Araddhas 
should  be  strangers,  neither  friends  nor  enemies,  and 
in  no  way  related  to  the  family.  Thus  Apastamba 
says  : f “The  food  eaten  (at  a Araddha)  by  persons 
related  to  the  giver  is  a gift  offered  to  goblins.  It 
reaches  neither  the  Manes  nor  the  Gods.”  A man  who 
tried  to  curry  favor  by  bestowing  Araddhika  gifts,  was 
called  by  an  opprobrious  name,  a Araddha-mitra.  ^ 

* Apastamba  II.  16,  3,  Brahmanas  tv  fikavaniyarthe. 

f L.  c.  p.  142.  t Manu  III.  138,  140. 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


25? 


Without  denying  therefore  that  in  later  times  the 
system  of  Araddhas  may  have  degenerated,  I think  we 
can  perceive  that  it  sprang  from  a pure  source,  and, 
what  for  our  present  purpose  is  even  more  important, 
from  an  intelligible  source. 

Let  us  now  return  to  the  passage  in  the  Grfhyasutras 
of  Asvalayana,  where  we  met  for  the  first  time  with  the 
name  of  Araddha.* * * §  It  was  the  Araddha  to  be  given  for 
the  sake  of  the  Departed,  after  his  ashes  had  been 
collected  in  an  urn  and  buried.  This  Araddha  is  called 
ekoddishhijf  or,  as  we  should  say,  personal.  It  was 
meant  for  one  person  only,  not  for  the  three  ancestors, 
nor  for  all  the  ancestors.  Its  object  was  in  fact  to  raiso 
the  departed  to  the  rank  of  a Pit ri,  and  this  had  to  be 
achieved  by 'Araddha  offerings  continued  during  a whole 
year.  This  at  least  is  the  general,  and,  most  likely,  the 
original  rule.  Apastamba  says  that  the  Araddha  for  a 
deceased  relative  should  be  performed  every  day  during 
the  year,  and  that  after  that  a monthly  Araddha  only 
should  be  performed  or  none  at  all,  that  is,  no  more 
personal  Araddha,:):  because  the  departed  shares  hence- 
forth in  the  regular  P ar  v ana  - sraddhas . § Aankhayana 
says  the  same,  ||  namely  that  the  personal  Araddha  lasts 
for  a year,  and  that  then  “ the  Fourth”  is  dropped,  i.e. 
the  great-grandfather  was  dropped,  the  grandfather  be- 
came the  great-grandfather,  the  father  the  grandfather, 

* “ Asv.  Grihya-sutras”  IV.  5,  8. 

I It  is  described  as  a vikriti  of  tlio  Parvana-sraddha  in  “ Gobhiliya 
Grihya-sutras,”  p.  1011. 

J One  of  the  differences  between  the  acts  before  and  after  the 
Sapindikarana  is  noted  by  Salankayana : — Sapindikaranam  yavad 
rv/udarbliai/i  pitrikriya  Sapindikaranad  urdhvam  dvigunair  vidhivad 
bhavet.  “ Gobhiliya  Grihya-sutras,”  p.  930. 

§ “ Gobhiliya  Grihya-sutras,”  p.  1023. 

||  ‘ ‘ Grihya-sutras,  ” ed.  Oldenberg,  p.  83, 


258 


LECTURE  VII. 


while  the  lately  Departed  occupied  the  father's  place 
among  the  three  principal  Pit ris.* * * §  This  was  called  the 
Sapmt/ikarana,  i.e.  the  elevating  of  the  departed  to  the 
rank  of  an  ancestor. 

There  are  here,  as  elsewhere,  many  exceptions. 
Gobhila  allows  six  months  instead  of  a year,  or  even 
a Tripaksha,f  i.e.  three  half-months  ; and  lastly,  any 
auspicious  event  (vr/ddlii)  may  become  the  occasion  of 
the  SapmcZikarawa.  % 

The  full  number  of  /S'raddhas  necessary  for  the  Sapiw- 
<Za: na  is  sometimes  given  as  sixteen,  viz.,  the  first,  then 
one  in  each  of  the  twelve  months,  then  two  semestral 
ones,  and  lastly  the  Sapin<Zana.  But  here  too  much 
variety  is  allowed,  though,  if  the  SapmtZana  takes  place 
before  the  end  of  the  year,  the  number  of  sixteen 
/S'raddhas  has  still  to  be  made  up.§ 

When  the  /Sraddha  is  offered  on  account  of  an  aus- 
picious event,  such  as  a birth  or  a marriage,  the  fathers 
invoked  are  not  the  father,  grandfather,  and  great- 
grandfather, who  are  sometimes  called  asrumukha,  with 
tearful  faces,  but  the  ancestors  before  them,  and  they 
are  called  nandimukha,  or  joyful,  f 

Colebrooke,T  to  whom  we  owe  an  excellent  descrip- 
tion of  what  a /Sraddha  is  in  modern  times,  took  evi- 
dently the  same  view.  “ The  first  set  of  funeral  cere- 
monies,” he  writes,  “ is  adapted  to  effect,  by  means  of 

* A pratyabdikam  ekoddisli/am  on  the  anniversary  of  the  deceased 
is  mentioned  by  Gobkiliya,  1.  c.  p.  1011. 

f “ Gobkiliya  Grikya-sutras, ” p.  1039. 

J “iS’ankh.  Grikya,”p.  83  ; “ Gobk.  Grikya,”p.  1024.  According  to 
some  autkorities  tke  ekoddisk/a  is  called  nava,  new,  during  ten  days  ; 
navamisra,  mixed,  for  six  montks ; and  purana,  old,  afterward. 
“Gobkiliya  Grikya-sutras, ” p.  1020. 

§ “ Gobkiliya,”  1.  c.  p.  1032.  fl  “ Gobkiliya,”  1.  c.  p.  1047, 

“ Life  and  Essays,”  ii,  p.  195, 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


259 


oblations,  the  re-embodying  of  the  sonl  of  the  deceased, 
after  burning  his  corpse.  The  apparent  scope  of  the 
second  set  is  to  raise  his  shade  from  this  world,  where 
it  would  else,  according  to  the  notions  of  the  Hindus, 
continue  to  roam  among  demons  and  evil  spirits,  up  to 
heaven,  and  then  deify  him,  as  it  were,  among  the 
manes  of  departed  ancestors.  For  this  end,  a Araddha 
should  regularly  be  offered  to  the  deceased  on  the  day 
after  the  mourning  expires  ; twelve  other  xSVaddhas 
singly  to  the  deceased  in  twelve  successive  months  ; 
similar  obsequies  at  the  end  of  the  third  fortnight,  and 
also  in  the  sixth  month,  and  in  the  twelfth  ; and  the 
oblation  called  Sapindlana  on  the  first  anniversary  of  his 
decease.*  At  this  SapiwrZana  xSraddlia,  which  is  the  last 
of  the  ekoddish^a  sraddhas,  four  funeral  cakes  are 
offered  to  the  deceased  and  his  three  ancestors,  that 
consecrated  to  the  deceased  being  divided  into  three 
portions  and  mixed  with  the  other  three  cakes.  The 
portion  retained  is  often  offered  to  the  deceased,  and  the 
act  of  union  and  fellowship  becomes  complete. f 

When  this  system  of  xSraddhas  had  once  been  started, 
it  seems  to  have  spread  very  rapidly.  We  soon  hear  of 
the  monthly  Araddlia,  not  only  in  memory  of  one  person 
lately  deceased,  but  as  part  of  the  Pit/’«yay«a,  and  as 
obligatory,  not  only  on  householders  (agnimat),  but  on 

* Colebrooke  adds  that  in  most  provinces  the  periods  for  these 
sixteen  ceremonies,  and  for  the  concluding  obsequies  entitled  Sapin- 
dana,  are  anticipated,  and  the  whole  is  completed  on  the  second  or 
third  day  ; after  which  they  are  again  performed  at  the  proper  times, 
but  in  honor  of  the  whole  set  of  progenitors  instead  of  the  deceased 
singly.  It  is  this  which  Dr.  Donner,  in  his  learned  paper  on  the 
“ Pindapitriyajfta”  (p.  11),  takes  as  the  general  rule. 

f See  this  subject  most  exhaustively  treated,  particularly  in  its 
bearings  on  the  law  of  inheritance,  in  Rajkumar  Sarvadhikari’s 
“ Tagore  Law  Lectures  for  1880,”  p.  93, 


260 


LECTUKE  VII. 


other  persons  also,  and,  not  only  on  the  three  upper 
castes,  but  even,  without  hymns,  on  Andrus,* * * §  and  as  to 
he  performed,  not  only  on  the  day  of  New-Moon,  but 
on  other  days  also,f  whenever  there  was  an  opportunity. 
Gobhila  seems  to  look  upon  the  Pinr/apitr  fyayAi  as  itself 
a Araddha, \ and  the  commentator  holds  that,  even  if 
there  are  no  piwf/as  or  cakes,  the  Brahmans  ought  still 
to  be  fed.  This  Sraddha,  however,  is  distinguished 
from  the  other,  the  true  Sraddha,  called  Anvaliarya, 
which  follows  it,§  and  which  is  properly  known  by  the 
name  of  Parvawa  /Sraddha. 

The  same  difficulties  which  confront  us  when  we  try 
to  form  a clear  conception  of  the  character  of  the  various 
ancestral  ceremonies,  were  felt  by  the  Brahmans  them- 
selves, as  may  be  seen  from  the  long  discussions  in  the 
commentary  on  the  Araddha-kalpa  ||  and  from  the  abusive 
language  used  by  Aandrakanta  Tarkalankara  against 
Raghunandana.  The  question  with  them  assumes  the 
form  of  what  is  pradhana  (primary)  and  what  is  ariga 
(secondary)  in  these  sacrifices,  and  the  final  result  arrived 
at  is  that  sometimes  the  offering  of  cakes  is  pradhana,  as 
in  the  Pm^apitWyagwa,  sometimes  the  feeding  of  Brah- 
mans only,  as  in  the  Ritya-sraddha,  sometimes  both,  as 
in  the  SapmAkarami. 

We  may  safely  say,  therefore,  that  not  a day  passed  in 
the  life  of  the  ancient  people  of  India  on  which  they 

* “ Gobkiliya  Grikya-sutras,”  p.  892.  f L.  c.  p.  897. 

t See  p.  666,  and  p.  1008.  Grikyakara/t  piadapitriyajnasya  sradd- 

katvam  aka. 

§ Gokkila  IV.  4,  3,  itarad  anvakaryam.  But  tke  commentators  add 
anagner  amavasyasraddkam,  nanvakaryam.  According  to  Gobkila 
tkere  ougkt  to  be  tke  Vaisvadeva  offering  and  tke  Bali  offering  at  tke 
end  of  eacli  Parvana-sraddka  ; see  “Gobkiliya  Grikya-sutras,”  p. 
1005,  but  no  Vaisvadeva  at  an  ekoddisk/a  sraddka,  1.  c.  p.  1020. 

| L.  c.  pp.  1005-1010  ; “ Nirnayasindku,”  p.  270, 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


2G1 


were  not  reminded  of  their  ancestors,  both  near  and 
distant,  and  showed  their  respect  for  them,  partly  by 
symbolic  offerings  to  the  Manes,  partly  by  charitable 
gifts  to  deserving  persons,  chiefly  Brahmans.  These 
offertories  varied  from  the  simplest,  such  as  milk  and 
fruits,  to  the  costliest,  such  as  gold  and  jewels.  The 
feasts  given  to  those  who  were  invited  to  officiate  or 
assist  at  a Araddha  seem  in  some  cases  to  have  been  very 
sumptuous,*  and  what  is  very  important,  the  eating  of 
meat,  which  in  later  times  was  strictly  forbidden  in 
many  sects,  must,  when  the  Sutras  were  written,  have 
been  fully  recognized  at  these  feasts,  even  to  the  killing 
and  eating  of  a cow.f 

This  shows  that  these  Araddhas,  though  possibly  of 
later  date  than  the  Pit/’iyay^as,  belong  nevertheless  to  a 
very  early  phase  of  Indian  life.  And  though  much  may 
have  been  changed  in  the  outward  form  of  these  ancient 
ancestral  sacrifices,  their  original  solemn  character  has 
remained  unchanged.  Even  at  present,  when  the  wor- 
ship of  the  ancient  Devas  is  ridiculed  by  many  who  still 
take  part  in  it,  the  worship  of  the  ancestors  and  the 
offering  of  Araddhas  have  maintained  much  of  their  old 
sacred  character.  They  have  sometimes  been  compared 
to  the  “ communion”  in  the  Christian  Church,  and  it  is 
certainly  true  that  many  natives  speak  of  their  funeral 
and  ancestral  ceremonies  with  a hushed  voice  and  with 
real  reverence.  They  alone  seem  still  to  impart  to  their 
life  on  earth  a deeper  significance  and  a higher  prospect. 
I could  go  even  a step  further  and  express  my  belief, 

* See  Burnell,  “ The  Law  of  Partition,”  p.  31. 

•(■  Kalau  tavad  gavalambho  mamsadanam  fca  sraddhe  nishiddhani, 
Gobhilena  tu  madhyamashiakaySim  vastukarmani  fca  gavalambho 
vihitafc,  m&msafcaros  fcanvashiakyasraddlie  ; Gobliiliya  Grihya-sutra. 
ed.  “ Aandrakanta  Tarkalankara,  Vignapti,”  p.  8. 


m 


LECTURE  VII. 


that  the  absence  of  such  services  for  the  dead  and  of 
ancestral  commemorations  is  a real  loss  in  our  own 
religion.  Almost  every  religion  recognizes  them  as 
tokens  of  a loving  memory  offered  to  a father,  to  a 
mother,  or  even  to  a child,  and  though  in  many  coun- 
tries they  may  have  proved  a source  of  superstition, 
there  runs  through  them  all  a deep  well  of  living  human 
faith  that  ought  never  to  he  allowed  to  perish.  The 
early  Christian  Church  had  to  sanction  the  ancient 
prayers  for  the  Souls  of  the  Departed,  and  in  more 
southern  countries  the  services  on  All  Saints’  and  on 
All  Souls’  Day  continue  to  satisfy  a craving  of  the 
human  heart  which  must  be  satisfied  in  every  religion.* 
We,  in  the  North,  shrink  from  these  open  manifesta- 
tions of  grief,  but  our  hearts  know  often  a deeper  bitter- 
ness ; nay,  there  would  seem  to  be  a higher  truth  than 
we  at  first  imagine  in  the  belief  of  the  ancients  that  the 
souls  of  our  beloved  ones  leave  us  no  rest,  unless  they 
are  appeased  by  daily  prayers,  or,  better  still,  by  daily 
acts  of  goodness  in  remembrance  of  them.f 

* It  may  be  seriously  doubted  whether  prayers  to  the  dead  or  for 
the  dead  satisfy  any  craving  of  the  human  heart.  With  us  in  “ the 
North,”  a shrinking  from  “ open  manifestations  of  grief”  has  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  the  matter.  Those  who  refuse  to  engage  in 
such  worship  believe  and  teach  that  the  dead  are  not  gods  and  can- 
not be  helped  by  our  prayers.  Reason,  not  feeling,  prevents  such 
worship. — Am.  Pubs. 

f A deeper  idea  than  affection  inspired  this  custom.  Every  kins- 
man was  always  such,  living  or  dead  ; and  hence  the  service  of  the 
dead  was  sacred  and  essential.  The  Sraddhas  were  adopted  as  the 
performance  of  such  offices.  There  were  twelve  forms  of  this  service  : 
1.  The  daily  offering  to  ancestors.  2.  The  sraddha  for  a person  lately 
deceased,  and  not  yet  included  with  the  pitris.  3.  The  sraddha 
offered  for  a specific  object.  4.  The  offering  made  on  occasions  of 
rejoicing.  5.  The  sraddha  performed  when  the  recently-departed  has 
been  incorporated  among  the  Pitris.  6.  The  sraddha  performed  on  a 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


263 


But  there  is  still  another  Beyond  that  found  expression 
in  the  ancient  religion  of  India.  Besides  the  Devas  or 
Gods,  and  besides  the  Pitre's  or  Fathers,  there  was  a 
third  world,  without  which  the  ancient  religion  of  India 
could  not  have  become  what  we  see  it  in  the  Yeda. 
That  third  Beyond  was  what  the  poets  of  the  Yeda  call 
the  Iii  t a,  and  which  I believe  meant  originally  no  more 
than  “the  straight  line.”  It  is  applied  to  the  straight 
line  of  the  sun  in  its  daily  course,  to  the  straight  line 
followed  by  day  and  night,  to  the  straight  line  that 
regulates  the  seasons,  to  the  straight  line  which,  in  spite 
of  many  momentary  deviations,  was  discovered  to  run 
through  the  whole  realm  of  nature.  We  call  that  TYta, 
that  straight,  direct,  or  right  line,  when  we  apply  it  in 
a more  general  sense,  the  Law  of  Nature  ; and  when  we 
apply  it  to  the  moral  world,  we  try  to  express  the  same 
idea  again  by  speaking  of  the  Moral  Laio,  the  law  on 
which  our  life  is  founded,  the  eternal  Law  of  Bight  and 
Beason,  or,  it  may  he,  “ that  which  makes  for  righteous- 
ness” both  within  us  and  without.* 

And  thus,  as  a thoughtful  look  on  nature  led  to  the 
first  perception  of  bright  gods,  and  in  the  end  of  a God 
of  light,  as  love  of  our  parents  was  transfigured  into 


parvan-day,  i.e.,  new  moon,  the  eighth  day,  fourteenth  day,  and 
full  moon.  7.  The  sraddha  performed  in  a house  of  assembly  for  the 
benefit  of  learned  men.  8.  Expiatory.  9.  Part  of  some  other  cere- 
mony. 10.  Offered  for  the  sake  of  the  Devas.  11.  Performed  be- 
fore going  on  a journey.  12.  Sraddha  for  the  sake  of  wealth.  The 
sraddhas  may  be  performed  in  one’s  own  house,  or  in  some  secluded 
and  pure  place.  The  number  performed  each  year  by  those  who  can 
afford  it  varies  considerably  ; but  ninety-six  appears  to  be  the  more 
common.  The  most  fervent  are  the  twelve  new-moon  rites  ; four 
Vuga  and  fourteen  Manu  rites  ; twelve  corresponding  to  the  passages 
of  the  sun  into  the  zodiacal  mansions,  etc.— A.  W. 

* See  “ Hibbert  Lectures,”  new  ed.  pp.  243-255. 


264 


LECTURE  VII. 


piety  and  a belief  in  immortality,  a recognition  of  tbe 
straight  lines  in  the  world  without,  and  in  the  world 
within,  was  raised  into  the  highest  faith,  a faith  in  a law 
that  underlies  everything,  a law  in  which  we  may  trust, 
whatever  befall,  a law  which  speaks  within  us  with  the 
divine  voice  of  conscience,  and  tells  us  “this  is  Wta,  ’ ’ 
“ this  is  right,”  “ this  is  true,”  whatever  the  statutes  of 
our  ancestors,  or  even  the  voices  of  our  bright  gods,  may 
say  to  the  contrary.* 

These  three  Beyonds  are  the  three  revelations  of 
antiquity  ; and  it  is  due  almost  entirely  to  the  discovery 
of  the  Yeda  that  we,  in  this  nineteenth  century  of  ours, 
have  been  allowed  to  watch  again  these  early  phases  of 
thought  and  religion,  which  had  passed  away  long  before 
the  beginnings  of  other  literatures,  f In  the  Yeda  an 
ancient  city  has  been  laid  bare  before  our  eyes  which,  in 
the  history  of  all  other  religions,  is  filled  up  with  rub- 
bish, and  built  over  by  new  architects.  Some  of  the 
earliest  and  most  instructive  scenes  of  our  distant  child- 
hood have  risen  once  more  above  the  horizon  of  our 

* The  same  concept  is  found  in  the  Platonio  Dialogue  between 
Sokrates  and  Euthyphron.  The  philosopher  asks  the  diviner  to  tell 
what  is  holy  and  what  impiety.  “ That  which  is  pleasing  to  the  gods 
is  holy,  and  that  which  is  not  pleasing  to  them  is  impious”  promptly 
replies  the  mantis,  “ To  be  holy  is  to  be  just,”  said  Sokrates  ; “ Is  the 
thing  holy  because  they  love  it,  or  do  they  love  it  because  it  is  holy  ?” 
Enthyphron  hurried  away  in  alarm.  He  had  acknowledged  unwit- 
tingly that  holiness  or  justice  was  supreme  above  all  gods  ; and  this 
highest  concept,  this  highest  faith,  he  dared  not  entertain. — A.  W. 

f In  Chinese  we  find  that  the  same  three  aspects  of  religion  and 
their  intimate  relationship  were  recognized,  as,  for  instanoe,  when 
Confucius  says  to  the  Prince  of  Sung  : * ‘ Honor  the  sky  (worship  of 
Devas),  reverence  the  Manes  (worship  of  Pitris)  ; if  you  do  this,  sun 
and  moon  will  keep  their  appointed  time  (Kita).”  Happel,  “ Altchi- 
nesische  Heichsreligion,  ” p.  11. 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


2G5 


memory  which,  until  thirty  or  forty  years  ago,  seemed 
to  have  vanished  forever. 

Only  a few  words  more  to  indicate  at  least  how  this 
religious  growth  in  India  contained  at  the  same  time  the 
germs  of  Indian  philosophy.  Philosophy  in  India  is, 
what  it  ought  to  be,  not  the  denial,  but  the  fulfilment 
of  religion  ; it  is  the  highest  religion,  and  the  oldest 
name  of  the  oldest  system  of  philosophy  in  India  is 
Y edanta,  that  is,  the  end,  the  goal,  the  highest  object 
of  the  Veda. 

Let  us  return  once  more  to  that  ancient  theologian  who 
lived  in  the  fifth  century  b.o.,  and  who  told  us  that,  even 
before  his  time,  all  the  gods  had  been  discovered  to  he 
but  three  gods,  the  gods  of  the  Earth , the  gods  of  the 
Air , and  the  gods  of  the  Sky , invoked  under  various 
names.  The  same  writer  tells  us  that  in  reality  there  is 
but  one  God,  but  he  does  not  call  him  the  Lord,  or  the 
Highest  God,  the  Creator,  Ruler,  and  Preserver  of  all 
things,  hut  he  calls  him  Atman,  the  Self.  The  one 
Atman  or  Self,  he  says,  is  praised  in  many  ways  owing 
to  the  greatness  of  the  godhead.  And  then  he  goes  on 
to  say  : “ The  other  gods  are  but  so  many  members  of 
the  one  Atman,  Self,  and  thus  it  has  been  said  that  the 
poets  compose  their  praises  according  to  the  multiplicity 
of  the  natures  of  the  beings  whom  they  praise.” 

It  is  true,  no  doubt,  that  this  is  the  language  of  a 
philosophical  theologian,  not  of  an  ancient  poet.  Yet 
these  philosophical  reflections  belong  to  the  fifth  century 
before  our  era,  if  not  to  an  earlier  date  ; and  the  first 
germs  of  such  thoughts  may  be  discovered  in  some  of 
the  Vedic  hymns  also.  I have  quoted  already  from  the 
hymns  such  passages  as  * — “ They  speak  of  Mitra, 

* Kig-Veda  I.  164,  46;  “ Hibbert  Lectures,”  p.  311. 


266 


LECTURE  VII. 


Varuna,  Agni  ; then  he  is  the  heavenly  bird  Garutmat ; 
that  which  is  and  is  one  the  poets  call  in  various  ways  ; 
they  speak  of  Yama,  Agni,  Matarisvan.” 

In  another  hymn,  in  which  the  sun  is  likened  to  a 
bird,  we  read  : “ Wise  poets  represent  by  their  words 
the  bird  who  is  one,  in  many  ways.”* 

All  this  is  still  tinged  with  mythology  ; but  there  are 
other  passages  from  which  a purer  light  beams  upon  us, 
as  when  one  poet  asks  : f 

“ Who  saw  him  when  he  was  first  born,  when  he  who 
has  no  bones  bore  him  who  has  bones  ? Where  was  the 
breath,  the  blood,  the  Self  of  the  world  ? Who  went  to 
ask  this  from  any  that  knew  it  ?” 

Here,  too,  the  expression  is  still  helpless,  but  though 
the  flesh  is  weak,  the  spirit  is  very  willing.  The  ex- 
pression, “ He  who  has  bones”  is  meant  for  that  which 
has  assumed  consistency  and  form,  the  Visible,  as  op- 
posed to  that  which  has  no  bones,  no  body,  no  form,  the 
Invisible,  while  “ breath,  blood,  and  self  of  the  world  ” 
are  but  so  many  attempts  at  finding  names  and  concepts 
for  what  is  by  necessity  inconceivable,  and  therefore 
unnamable. 

In  the  second  period  of  Yedic  literature,  in  the  so- 
called  Brahmanas,  and  more  particularly  in  what  is 
called  the  Upanisliads,  or  the  Vedanta  portion,  these 
thoughts  advance  to  perfect  clearness  and  definiteness. 
Here  the  development  of  religious  thought,  which  took 
its  beginning  in  the  hymns,  attains  to  its  fulfilment. 
The  circle  becomes  complete.  Instead  of  comprehend- 
ing the  One  by  many  names,  the  many  names  are  now 
comprehended  to  be  the  One.  The  old  names  are 
* 

* Rig- Veda  X.  114,5  ; “ Hibbert  Lectures,”  p.  313. 
f Rig- Veda  I.  164,  4. 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


2G7 


openly  discarded  ; even  such  titles  as  Prayapati,  lord  of 
creatures,  Visvakarman,  maker  of  all  things,  Dhat/’f, 
creator,  are  put  aside  as  inadequate.  The  name  now 
used  is  an  expression  of  nothing  but  the  purest  and 
highest  subjectiveness — it  is  Atman,  the  Self,  far  more 
abstract  than  our  Ego — the  Self  of  all  things,  the  Self  of 
all  the  old  mythological  gods — for  they  were  not  mere 
names,  but  names  intended  for  something — lastly,  the 
Self  in  which  each  individual  self  must  find  rest,  must 
come  to  himself,  must  find  his  own  true  Self. 

You  may  remember  that  I spoke  to  you  in  my  first 
lecture  of  a boy  who  insisted  on  being  sacrificed  by  his 
father,  and  who,  when  he  came  to  Yama,  the  ruler  of 
the  departed,  was  granted  three  boons,  and  who  then 
requested,  as  his  third  boon,  that  Yama  should  tell  him 
what  became  of  man  after  death.  That  dialogue  forms 
part  of  one  of  the  Upanishads,  it  belongs  to  the  Vedan- 
ta, the  end  of  the  Veda,  the  highest  aim  of  the 
Veda.  I shall  read  you  a few  extracts  from  it. 

Yama,  the  King  of  the  Departed,  says  : 

“ Men  who  are  fools,  dwelling  in  ignorance,  though 
wise  in  their  own  sight,  and  puffed  up  with  vain 
knowledge,  go  round  and  round,  staggering  to  and  fro, 
like  blind  led  by  the  blind. 

“ The  future  never  rises  before  the  eyes  of  the  care- 
less child,  deluded  by  the  delusions  of  wealth.  This  is 
the  world,  he  thinks  ; there  is  no  other  ; thus  he  falls 
again  and  again  under  my  sway  (the  sway  of  death). 

“ The  wise,  who  by  means  of  meditating  on  his  Self, 
recognizes  the  Old  (the  old  man  within)  who  is  difficult 
to  see,  who  has  entered  into  darkness,  who  is  hidden  in 
the  cave,  who  dwells  in  the  abyss,  as  God,  he  indeed 
leaves  joy  and  sorrow  far  behind. 

“ That  Self,  the  Knower,  is  not  born,  it  dies  not ; it 


268 


LECTUKE  VII. 


came  from  nothing,  it  never  became  anything.  The 
Old  man  is  unborn,  from  everlasting  to  everlasting  ; he 
is  not  killed,  though  the  body  be  killed. 

“ That  Self  is  smaller  than  small,  greater  than  great ; 
hidden  in  the  heart  of  the  creature.  A man  who  has  no 
more  desires  and  no  more  griefs,  sees  the  majesty  of  the 
Self  by  the  grace  of  the  creator. 

“ Though  sitting  still,  he  walks  far  ; though  lying 
down,  he  goes  everywhere.  Who  save  myself  is  able  to 
know  that  God,  who  rejoices,  and  rejoices  not  ? 

“ That  Self  cannot  be  gained  by  the  Yeda  ; nor  by 
the  understanding,  nor  by  much  learning.  He  whom 
the  Self  chooses,  by  him  alone  the  Self  can  be  gained. 

“ The  Self  chooses  him  as  his  own.  But  he  who  has 
not  first  turned  away  from  his  wickedness,  who  is  not 
calm  and  subdued,  or  whose  mind  is  not  at  rest,  he  can 
never  obtain  the  Self,  even  by  knowledge. 

“ No  mortal  lives  by  the  breath  that  goes  up  and  by 
the  breath  that  goes  down.  We  live  by  another,  in 
whom  both  repose. 

“ Well  then,  I shall  tell  thee  this  mystery,  the  eternal 
word  (Brahman),  and  what  happens  to  the  Self,  after 
reaching  death. 

Some  are  born  again,  as  living  beings,  others  enter 
into  stocks  and  stones,  according  to  their  work,  and 
according  to  their  knowledge. 

“ But  he,  the  Highest  Person,  who  wakes  in  us  while 
we  are  asleep,  shaping  one  lovely  sight  after  another, 
he  indeed  is  called  the  Light,  he  is  called  Brahman,  he 
alone  is  called  the  Immortal.  All  worlds  are  founded 
on  it,  and  no  one  goes  beyond.  This  is  that. 

u As*  the  one  fire,  after  it  has  entered  the  world, 
though  one,  becomes  different  according  to  wha.t  it 
burns,  thus  the  One  Self  within  all  things,  becomes 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


269 


different,  according  to  whatever  it  enters,  bnt  it  exists 
also  apart. 

“ As  the  sun,  the  eye  of  the  world,  is  not  con- 
taminated by  the  external  impurities  seen  by  the  eye, 
thus  the  One  Self  within  all  things  is  never  contaminated 
by  the  sufferings  of  the  world,  being  himself  apart. 

“ There  is  one  eternal  thinker,  thinking  non-eternal 
thoughts  ; he,  though  one,  fulfils  the  desires  of  many. 
The  wise  who  perceive  Him  within  their  Self,  to  them 
belongs  eternal  life,  eternal  peace.* 

“ Whatever  there  is,  the  whole  world,  when  gone 
forth  (from  Brahman),  trembles  in  his  breath.  That 
Brahman  is  a great  terror,  like  a drawn  sword.  Those 
who  know  it,  become  immortal. 

“ He  (Brahman)  cannot  be  reached  by  speech,  by 
mind,  or  by  the  eye.  He  cannot  be  apprehended,  ex- 
cept by  him  who  says,  lie  is. 

“ When  all  desires  that  dwell  in  the  heart  cease,  then 
the  mortal  becomes  immortal,  and  obtains  Brahman. 

“ When  all  the  fetters  of  the  heart  here  on  earth  are 
broken,  when  all  that  binds  us  to  this  life  is  undone, 
then  the  mortal  becomes  immortal — here  my  teaching 
ends.  ’ ’ 

This  is  what  is  called  Yedanta,  the  Yeda-end,  the  end 
of  the  Yeda,  and  this  is  the  religion  or  the  philosophy, 
whichever  you  like  to  call  it,  that  has  lived  on  from 
about  500  b.c.  to  the  present  day.  If  the  people  of 
India  can  be  said  to  have  now  any  system  of  religion  at 
all- — apart  from  their  ancestral  sacrifices  and  their  Yrad- 
dhas,  and  apart  from  mere  caste-observances — it  is  to 
be  found  in  the  Yedanta  philosophy,  the  leading  tenets 

* To  <5?  ippdvj/iua  7ov  ■Kvevy.aroQ  far)  nal  elprjvr).  See  also  Buskin, 
f‘  Sesame,”  p.  63. 


270 


LECTURE  VII. 


of  which  are  known  to  some  extent  in  every  village.* 
That  great  revival  of  religion,  which  was  inaugurated 
some  fifty  years  ago  by  Ram-Mohun  Roy,  and  is  now 
known  as  the  Brahma-Samay,  under  the  leadership  of 
my  noble  friend  Keshub  Chunder  Sen,  was  chiefly 
founded  on  the  Upanishads,  and  was  Vedantic  in  spirit. 
There  is,  in  fact,  an  unbroken  continuity  between  the 
most  modern  and  the  most  ancient  phases  of  Hindu 
thought,  extending  over  more  than  three  thousand  years. 

To  the  present  day  India  acknowledges  no  higher 
authority  in  matters  of  religion,  ceremonial,  customs, 
and  law  than  the  Veda,  and  so  long  as  India  is  India, 
nothing  will  extinguish  that  ancient  spirit  of  Yedantism 
which  is  breathed  by  every  Hindu  from  his  earliest 
youth,  and  pervades  in  various  forms  the  prayers  even 
of  the  idolater,  the  speculations  of  the  philosopher,  and 
the  proverbs  of  the  beggar. 

For  purely  practical  reasons  therefore — I mean  for  the 
very  practical  object  of  knowing  something  of  the  secret 
springs  which  determine  the  character,  the  thoughts  and 
deeds  of  the  lowest  as  well  as  of  the  highest  among  the 
people  in  India — an  acquaintance  with  their  religion, 
which  is  founded  on  the  Yeda,  and  with  their  philoso- 
phy, which  is  founded  on  the  Yedanta,  is  highly  desir- 
able. 

It  is  easy  to  make  light  of  this,  and  to  ask,  as  some 
statesmen  have  asked,  even  in  Europe,  What  has  re- 
ligion, or  what  has  philosophy,  to  do  with  politics  ? In 
India,  in  spite  of  all  appearances  to  the  contrary,  and 
notwithstanding  the  indifference  on  religious  matters  so 
often4  paraded  before  the  world  by  the  Indians  them- 
selves, religion,  and  philosophy  too,  are  great  powers 


* Major  Jacob,  “ Manual  of  Hindu  Pantheism,”  Preface, 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


271 


still.  Read  the  account  that  has  lately  been  published 
of  two  native  statesmen,  the  administrators  of  two  first- 
class  states  in  SaurashAa,  Junagadh,  and  Bhavnagar, 
Gokulaji  and  Gaurisankara,*  and  you  will  see  whether 
the  Vedanta  is  still  a moral  and  a political  power  in 
India  or  not. 

But  I claim  even  more  for  the  Vedanta,  and  I recom- 
mend its  study,  not  only  to  the  candidates  for  the 
Indian  Civil  Service,  but  to  all  true  students  of  philos- 
ophy. It  will  bring  before  them  a view  of  life,  different 
from  all  other  view’s  of  life  which  are  placed  before  us 
in  the  History  of  Philosophy.  You  saw  how  behind  all 
the  Devas  or  gods,  the  authors  of  the  ITpanishads  dis- 
covered the  Atman  or  Self.  Of  that  Self  they  pred- 
icated three  things  only,  that  it  is,  that  it  perceives, 
and  that  it  enjoys  eternal  bliss.  All  other  predicates 
were  negative  : it  is  not  this,  it  is  not  that — it  is  beyond 
anything  that  we  can  conceive  or  name. 

But  that  Self,  that  Highest  Self,  the  Paramatman, 

* “ Life  and  Letters  of  Gokulaji  Sampattirama  Zala  and  his  views 
of  the  Vedanta,  by  Manassukharama  Suryarama  Tripa/Ai.”  Bombay, 
1881. 

As  a yo\ing  man  Gokulaji,  the  son  of  a good  family,  learned  Persian 
and  Sanskrit.  His  chief  interest  in  life,  in  the  midst  of  a most  suc- 
cessful political  career,  was  the  “Vedanta.”  A little  insight,  we  are 
told,  into  this  knowledge  turned  his  heart  to  higher  objects,  promis- 
ing him  freedom  from  grief,  and  blessedness,  the  highest  aim  of  all. 
This  was  the  turning-point  of  his  inner  life.  When  the  celebrated 
Vedanti  anchorite,  Rama  Bava,  visited  Junagadh,  Gokulaji  became  his 
pupil.  When  another  anchorite,  Paramahansa  Sa/cAidananda,  passed 
through  Junagadh  on  a pilgrimage  to  Girnar,  Gokulaji  was  regularly 
initiated  in  the  secrets  of  the  Vedanta.  He  soon  became  highly  pro- 
ficient in  it,  and  through  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  whether  in 
power  or  in  disgrace,  his  belief  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Vedanta  sup- 
ported him,  and  made  him,  in  the  opinion  of  English  statesmen,  the 
model  of  what  a native  statesman  ought  to  be. 


272 


LECTURE  VII. 


could  be  discovered  after  a severe  moral  and  intellectual 
discipline  only,  and  those  who  bad  not  yet  discovered  it 
were  allowed  to  worship  lower  gods,  and  to  employ 
more  poetical  names  to  satisfy  their  human  wants. 
Those  who  knew  the  other  gods  to  be  but  names  or 
persons — 'personae  or  masks,  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
word — pratikas,  as  they  call  them  in  Sanskrit — knew 
also  that  those  who  worshipped  these  names  or  persons, 
worshipped  in  truth  the  Highest  Self,  though  ignorantly. 
This  is  a most  characteristic  feature  in  the  religious 
history  of  India.  Even  in  the  Bhagavadgita,  a rather 
popular  and  exoteric  exposition  of  Vedantic  doctrines, 
the  Supreme  Lord  or  Bhagavat  himself  is  introduced  as 
saying  : “ Even  those  who  worship  idols,  worship  me.”  * 

But  that  was  not  all.  As  behind  the  names  of  Agni, 
Indra,  and  Prayapati,  and  behind  all  the  mythology  of 
nature,  the  ancient  sages  of  India  had  discovered  the 
Atman— let  us  call  it  the  objective  Self — they  perceived 
also  behind  the  veil  of  the  body,  behind  the  senses,  behind 
the  mind,  and  behind  our  reason  (in  fact  behind  the  my- 

* Professor  Kuenen  discovers  a similar  idea  in  the  -words  placed  in 
the  month  of  Jehovah  by  the  prophet  Malachi,  i.  14  : “ For  I am  a 
great  King,  and  my  name  is  feared  among  the  heathen.”  “ The  ref- 
erence,” he  says,  “ is  distinctly  to  the  adoration  already  offered  to 
Yahweh  by  the  people,  whenever  they  serve  their  own  gods  with  true 
reverence  and  honest  zeal.  * Even  in  Deuteronomy  the  adoration  of 
these  other  gods  by  the  nations  is  represented  as  a dispensation  of 
Yahweh.  Malachi  goes  a step  further,  and  accepts  their  worship  as  a 
tribute  which  in  reality  falls  to  Yahweh — to  Him,  the  Only  True. 
Thus  the  opposition  between  Yahweh  and  the  other  gods,  and  after- 
ward between  the  one  true  God  and  the  imaginary  gods,  makes  room 
here  for*the  still  higher  conception  that  the  adoration  of  Yahweh  is 
the  essence  and  the  truth  of  all  religion.”  “ Hibbert  Lectures,”  p. 
181. 

* There  is,  we  believe,  not  the  slightest  authority  for  reading  Malachi  in  this  way  ; 
any  reader  of  the  Old  Testament  is  competent  to  judge  for  himself.— Am.  Pubs. 


YEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


273 


thology  of  the  soul,  which  we  often  call  psychology), 
another  Atman,  or  the  subjective  Self.  That  Self  too 
was  to  be  discovered  by  a severe  moral  and  intellectual 
discipline  only,  and  those  who  wished  to  find  it,  who 
wished  to  know,  not  themselves,  but  their  Self,  had  to 
cut  far  deeper  than  the  senses,  or  the  mind,  or  the 
reason,  or  the  ordinary  Ego.  All  these  too  were  Devas, 
bright  apparitions — mere  names — yet  names  meant  for 
something.  Much  that  was  most  dear,  that  had  seemed 
for  a time  their  very  self,  had  to  be  surrendered,  before 
they  could  find  the  Self  of  Selves,  the  Old  Man,  the 
Looker-on,  a subject  independent  of  all  personality,  an 
existence  independent  of  all  life. 

When  that  point  had  been  reached,  then  the  highest 
knowledge  began  to  dawn,  the  Self  within  (the  Pratya- 
gatman)  was  drawn  toward  the  Highest  Self  (the  Para- 
matman),  it  found  its  true  self  in  the  Highest  Self,  and 
the  oneness  of  the  subjective  with  the  objective  Self 
was  recognized  as  underlying  all  reality,  as  the  dim 
dream  of  religion — as  the  pure  light  of  philosophy. 

This  fundamental  idea  is  worked  out  with  systematic 
completeness  in  the  Vedanta  philosophy,  and  no  one 
who  can  appreciate  the  lessons  contained  in  Berkeley’s 
philosophy,  will  read  the  Upanishads  and  the  Bralima- 
sutras,  and  their  commentaries  without  feeling  a richer 
and  a wiser  man. 

I admit  that  it  requires  patience,  discrimination,  and 
a certain  amount  of  self-denial  before  we  can  discover 
the  grains  of  solid  gold  in  the  dark  mines  of  Eastern 
philosophy.  It  is  far  easier  and  far  more  amusing  for 
shallow  critics  to  point  out  what  is  absurd  and  ridiculous 
in  the  religion  and  philosophy  of  the  ancient  world  than 
for  the  earnest  student  to  discover  truth  and  wisdom 
under  strange  disguises.  Some  progress,  however,  has 


274 


LECTURE  YII. 


been  made,  even  during  the  short  span  of  life  that  we 
can  remember.  The  Sacred  Books  of  the  East  are  no 
longer  a mere  butt  for  the  invectives  of  missionaries  or 
the  sarcasms  of  philosophers.  They  have  at  last  been  rec- 
ognized as  historical  documents,  ay,  as  the  most  ancient 
documents  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind,  and  as 
palaeontological  records  of  an  evolution  that  begins  to 
elicit  wider  and  deeper  sympathies  than  the  nebular 
formation  of  the  planet  on  which  we  dwell  for  a season, 
or  the  organic  development  of  that  chrysalis  which  we 
call  man. 

If  you  think  that  I exaggerate,  let  me  read  you  in 
conclusion  what  one  of  the  greatest  philosophical  critics* 
— and  certainly  not  a man  given  to  admiring  the  thoughts 
of  others — says  of  the  Vedanta,  and  more  particularly  of 
the  Upanishads.  Schopenhauer  writes  : 

“ In  the  whole  world  there  is  no  study  so  beneficial 
and  so  elevating  as  that  of  the  Upanishads.  It  has  been 
the  solace  of  my  fife — it  will  be  the  solace  of  my  death.”f 

I have  thus  tried,  so  far  as  it  was  possible  in  one 
course  of  lectures,  to  give  you  some  idea  of  ancient 
India,  of  its  ancient  literature,  and,  more  particularly, 
of  its  ancient  religion.  My  object  was,  not  merely  to 
place  names  and  facts  before  you,  these  you  can  find  in 
many  published  books,  but,  if  possible,  to  make  you  see 
and  feel  the  general  human  interests  that  are  involved  in 


* Tl^e  author’s  enthusiasm  has  carried  him  beyond  bounds.  The 
weight  to  be  given  to  Schopenhauer’s  opinion  touching  any  religious 
subject  may  be  measured  by  the  following  quotation  : “ The  hap- 
piest moment  of  life  is  the  completest  forgetfulness  of  self  in  sleep, 
and  the  wretchedest  is  the  most  wakeful  and  conscious.” — Am.  Pubs. 

f “ Sacred  Books  of  the  East,”  vol.  i,  “The  Upanishads,”  trans- 
lated by  M.  M. ; Introduction,  p.  lxi. 


VEDA  AND  VEDANTA. 


275 


that  ancient  chapter  of  the  history  of  the  human  race. 
I wished  that  the  Veda  and  its  religion  and  philosophy 
should  not  only  seem  to  you  curious  or  strange,  hut  that 
you  should  feel  that  there  was  in  them  something  that 
concerns  ourselves,  something  of  our  own  intellectual 
growth,  some  recollections,  as  it  were,  of  our  own  child- 
hood, or  at  least  of  the  childhood  of  our  own  race.  I 
feel  convinced  that,  placed  as  we  are  here  in  this  life,  we 
have  lessons  to  learn  from  the  Veda,  quite  as  important 
as  the  lessons  we  learn  at  school  from  Homer  and  Virgil, 
and  lessons  from  the  Vedanta  quite  as  instructive  as  the 
systems  of  Plato  or  Spinoza. 

I do  not  mean  to  say  that  everybody  who  wishes  to 
know  how  the  human  race  came  to  be  what  it  is,  how 
language  came  to  be  what  it  is,  how  religion  came  to  be 
what  it  is,  how  manners,  customs,  laws,  and  forms  of 
government  came  to  be  what  they  are,  how  we  ourselves 
came  to  be  what  we  are,  must  learn  Sanskrit,  and  must 
study  Vedic  Sanskrit.  But  I do  believe  that  not  to 
know  what  a study  of  Sanskrit,  and  particularly  a study 
of  the  Veda,  has  already  done  for  illuminating  the 
darkest  passages  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind,  of 
that  mind  on  which  we  ourselves  are  feeding  and  living, 
is  a misfortune,  or,  at  all  events,  a loss,  just  as  I should 
count  it  a loss  to  have  passed  through  life  without 
knowing  something,  however  little,  of  the  geological 
formation  of  the  earth,  or  of  the  sun,  and  the  moon,  and 
the  stars — and  of  the  thought,  or  the  will,  or  the  law, 
that  govern  their  movements. 


INDEX 


A. 

Abba  Seen  river,  192. 

Abuaiaman,  74. 

Aeu  Fazl,  on  the  Hindus,  T5. 

Active  side  of  human  nature  in  Eu- 
rope, 120. 

Aditi,  meaning  of,  215. 

Aditya,  158. 

Adityas,  215. 

Adrooha,  83. 

Aerial  gods,  168. 

Afghanistan,  159  ; inhabitants  of,  189. 

Agui,  god  of  Are,  167. 

Agui-ignis,  fire,  41  ; as  a terrestrial 
deity,  195. 

Aitareya  Brahmana,  on  heaven  and 
earth,  175. 

Alexander  the  Great,  37  ; changes 
the  name  of  a river,  191. 

All-Sacrifice,  the,  85. 

Alphabet,  the,  whence  derived,  86  : 
Ionian  and  Phoenician,  222;  two  used 
in  Azoka’s  inscription,  225. 

Amitabiia  worship,  106. 

Anaxagoras,  his  doctrine,  177. 

Ancestors,  spirits  of,  238  ; worship  of, 
239. 

Animism,  130. 

Adrita,  83. 

Archeological  survey  of  India,  26. 

Arrian,  on  the  Hindus,  73  ; rivers 
known  to,  191. 

Aryans,  the,  onr  intellectual  relatives, 
33 ; seven  branches  of,  41  ; found  in 
Sanskrit  literature,  116  ; religion  of, 
161. 

Asmi,  I am,  43. 

Asoka,  King,  96 ; adopts  Buddhism, 
106  ; author  of  the  first  inscriptions, 
225  ; language  of  the  same,  234. 

Astronomy,  ancient,  in  India,  114  ; in 
the  Veda,  150  ; in  China,  151. 

Atman,  the  Self,  265. 

Avatauas  of  Vishnu,  three,  153. 

B. 

Babylonian  division  of  time,  36 ; in- 
fluences on  Vedic  poems,  145 ; on 
Vedic  astronomy,  147 ; zodiac,  158. 

Barzoi,  114. 

Bastian,  on  the  Polynesian  myths,  169. 


Bengal,  the  people  of,  55  ; villages  of, 
65  ; schools  in,  80. 

Bengali,  161. 

BiiagavadgIta,  272. 

Biiagavat,  supreme  lord,  272. 

Bimetallic  currency,  37. 

Bhishma,  death  of,  83. 

Bible,  the,  Sanskrit  words  in,  28  ; and 
the  Jewish  race,  140. 

Bibliographical  survey  of  India,  102. 

Books  read  by  ancient  nations  com- 
pared with  modern,  137. 

Bopp,  his  comparative  grammar,  46. 

Brahma  sacrifice,  249. 

Brahma  Samaj,  of  India,  163. 

Brahmana,  162. 

Brahmanas,  on  truth,  81 ; as  a class, 
256. 

Buddha  and  the  popular  dialects,  96. 

Buddhism,  chief  source  of  our  fables, 
27  ; striking  coincidences  with  Chris- 
tianity, 108  ; its  rise,  234. 

Burnouf,  115. 


C. 

Cabul  river,  192. 

Cesar,  on  the  Druids  and  their  memo- 
rizing, 233. 

Canaan,  140. 

Carlyle,  his  opinion  of  historical 
works,  16. 

Caste,  origin  of,  117  ; in  the  laws  of 
Mann,  117  ; in  the  Rig-Veda,  117. 

Cat,  the  domestic,  its  original  home, 
42. 

China,  origin  of  the  name,  151  ; chron- 
icles of,  104  ; lunar  stations  of,  150 ; 
aspects  of  religion,  264. 

Christian  religion,  the,  and  the  Jew- 
ish race,  35. 

Civil  service  examinations,  Indian,  20. 

Climatic  influences  on  morals  and  so- 
cial life,  120. 

Coins  of  India,  26. 

Colebrooke’s  religious  ceremonies, 
247. 

Commercial  honor  in  India,  82. 

Commerce  between  India  and  Syria  in 
Solomon’s  time,  28. 

Commercial  writing,  225. 

Confucius,  a hard  student,  230. 


278 


INDEX. 


Conquerors  of  India,  30. 

Coulanges,  Professor,  his  opinion  on 
religions  beliefs,  245. 

Cunningham's  Ancient  Geography  of 
India,  192. 

Cylinders  of  Babylon,  139. 

D. 

Dacoits,  79. 

Darwin,  141. 

Dawn,  the,  173. 

Dayananda’s  introduction  to  the  Rig- 
Veda,  104. 

Deluge,  the,  153 ; in  Hindu  literature, 
154  ; not  borrowed  from  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, 157;  its  natural  origin,  159. 

Departed  spirits,  237  ; honors  paid  to, 
240  ; ceremonies  to,  216. 

Deva,  159,  the  meaning  of,  236. 

DevapatuIs,  wives  of  the  gods,  164. 

Deyapi’s  prayer  for  rain,  204. 

Development  of  human  character  in 
India  and  Europe,  118. 

Dialects  in  Asoka's  time,  106. 

Diphthera,  222. 

Divi  Manes,  240. 

Donkey,  in  the  lion's  skin,  27  ; in  the 
tiger’s  skin,  28. 

Druids,  their  memory,  233. 

Dyaus  and  Zeus,  213. 

E. 

Eabaui,  158. 

East,  the,  our  original  home,  49. 

Ecliptic,  Indian,  153. 

Education  of  the  Iranian  race,  107. 

Education  in  India,  by  training  the 
memory,  232. 

Egyptian  hieroglyphics  preserved  in 
the  alphabet,  36. 

Elphinstone,  Monntstuart,  his  opinion 
. of  the  Hindus,  77. 

English  officers  in  India,  69. 

English  oriental  scholars,  a list  of,  22. 

Eos  and  Ushas,  201. 

Esthonian  prayer  to  Picker,  the  god  of 
thunder,  211. 

Euripides,  on  the  marriage  of  heaven 
and  earth,  177. 

Examinations,  work  produced  at,  20. 

F. 

Fables,  migration  of,  27. 

Falsehood,  no  mortal  sin,  five  cases 
of,  89. 

Fathers,  Hymn  to  the,  241. 

Finite,  the,  impossible  without  the  in- 
finite. 126. 

Fire,  names  for,  41  ; as  a civilizer,  195  ; 
a terrestrial  deity,  195 ; why  wor- 
shipped, 196. 

Five  nations,  the,  117. 

Five  sacrifices,  religious  duties,  249. 

Fravashis,  in  Persia,  240. 

Frederick  the  Great,  34. 


Friar  Jordanus,  opinion  of  Hindu  char- 
acter, 75. 

Funeral  ceremonies,  248 : an  earlier 
worship,  252  ; striking  coincidences, 
253 ; burial  and  cremation,  253. 


G. 

Gainas,  language  of,  97. 

Galileo,  his  theory,  135. 

Ganges,  sources  of,  96  ; its  tributaries, 
187. 

Gataka,  30. 

Gathas,  107. 

Gautama  allows  a lie,  88. 

Germany,  study  of  Sanskrit  in,  22. 

Gems,  the  nine,  114. 

Gill.  Rev.  W.,  myths  and  songs  of  the 
South  Pacific,  169 ; savage  life  in 
Polynesia,  233. 

Gods  in  the  Veda,  their  testimony  for 
truth,  83 ; the  number  of,  164 ; river 
gods  and  goddesses,  167  ; made  and 
unmade  by  men,  182  ; growth  of  a di- 
vine conception  in  the  human  mind, 
198. 

Golden  Rule,  the,  92. 

Goethe's  West-Ostlicher  Divan,  22. 

Gokulaji,  the  model  native  statesman, 
271. 

Grassman,  translation  of  Sanskrit 
words,  183. 

Greek  alphabet,  age  of,  221. 

Greek  literature,  its  study  and  use, 
23  ; when  first  written,  222. 

Greek  deities,  their  physical  origin, 
129. 

Greek  philosophy  our  model,  38. 

Greek  and  Latin,  similarity  between, 
40. 

Grimm,  identification  of  Parganya  and 
Perfin,  210. 

Growth  of  ancient  religions,  128. 

Grunau  on  old  Prussian  gods,  210. 

Guide-Books,  Greek,  223. 

Gymnosophists,  Indian,  123. 

H. 

Hardy,  his  Manual  of  Buddhism,  97. 

Hastings,  Warren,  and  the  Darics,  216; 
opinion  of  Hindu  character,  79. 

Hebrew  religion,  foreign  influences  in, 
145. 

nEBER,  Bishop,  opinion  of  the  Hindus, 
79. 

Heaven  and  Earth,  169 ; Maori  legend 
of,  173  ; Yedic  legends  of,  175  ; Greek 
legends  of,  176  ; epithets  for,  in  Veda, 
178 ; as  seen  by  Yedic  poets,  178. 

Henotheism,  166. 

Herodotus,  223. 

Hindus,  truthful  character  of,  52  ; the 
charge  of  their  untruthfulness  refuted, 
53  ; origin  of  the  charge,  54  ; different 
races  and  characteristics  of,  55 ; tes- 
timony of  trustworthy  witnesses,  55  ; 
their  'litigiousness,  60 ; their  treat- 


INDEX, 


279 


ment  by  Mohammedan  conquerors, 
72 ; reason  for  unfavorable  opinion 
of,  76  ; their  commercial  honor,  82  ; 
their  real  character  transcendent,  126; 
their  religion,  127  ; sacrifices  and 
priestly  rites,  148  ; knowledge  of  as- 
tronomy, 153;  first  acquainted  with 
an  alphabet,  224. 

Hindustani,  95. 

Hiranyagharba,  164. 

History,  its  object  and  study,  34 ; its 
true  sense,  44. 

Hitopadesa,  fables  of,  110. 

Hottentot  river  names,  188. 

Homeric  hymns,  140 ; heaven  and 
earth  in  the,  176. 

Human  Mind,  study  of,  India  impor- 
tant for,  33. 

Humboldt,  Alexander  von,  on  Kalidasa, 

110. 

1 1 YDASPES,  192. 

Hydraotis,  or  Hyarotis,  191. 

Hypasis,  or  Hyphasis,  191. 


I. 

Ida,  156. 

Idrisi,  on  the  Hindus,  74. 

Ijjar,  April-May,  158. 

India,  what  it  can  teach  us.  19  ; a para- 
dise, 24 ; its  literature  a corrective, 
24  ; past  and  present  aspects  of,  25  ; 
its  scientific  treasures,  25  ; a laboratory 
for  all  students,  32  ; its  population  and 
vast  extent,  142. 

Indra,  god  of  the  wind,  the  Yedic  Ju- 
piter, 83;  the  Aryan  guide,  116;  the 
god  of  the  thunderstorm,  168  ; as  cre- 
ator, 180 ; the  principal  god  of  the 
Veda,  198;  peculiar  to  India,  201. 

Indus,  The  river,  167. 

Infinite,  The,  126. 

Inner  Life,  Influence  of  Indian  litera- 
ture upon  our,  24. 

Inscriptions  in  India,  225. 

Ionians,  The,  their  alphabet,  222  ; first 
writing,  223. 

I-tsing,  his  visit  to  India,  229  ; his  ac- 
count of  Buddhist  priests,  229 ; of 
education,  230  ; of  perfection  of  mem- 
ory, 231 ; of  Brahmans,  231. 

Izdubar,  or  Nimrod,  the  poem  of,  158. 


J. 

Jehovah,  200. 

Jews,  The,  as  a race,  36  ; their  religion 
as  related  to  Oriental  religions,  36 ; 
necessary  to  a study  of  the  Christian 
religion,  35;  the  beginning  and  growth 
of  their  religion,  128. 

Jones,  Sir  William,  his  voyage  to  India, 
49  ; his  dreams  become  realities,  50. 

Joshua’s  battle,  200. 

Journals,  Sanskrit,  now  published  iu 
India,  98. 

Judgment  of  Solomon,  30. 


Junagadii,  271. 

Jupiter,  201. 

Jumna,  the  river,  190. 
Jurisprudence  in  India,  30. 
Justice  of  the  Indians,  74. 


K. 

Kalidasa,  the  poet,  his  age,  110  ; plays 
of,  111. 

Kamal-eddin  Ahderrazak,  on  the  Hin- 
dus, 75. 

Kausika,  punished  for  truthfulness,  89. 

Kanishka,  the  Sakaking,  106. 

Kanjur,  the  women  anu  the  child  in 
the,  29. 

Kathaiia,  or  reader,  158. 

Kathenotueism,  166. 

Kesuub  Chunder  Sen,  his  grandfather, 
59. 

Ivinas,  or  Chinese,  151. 

Koran,  oaths  on,  70. 

Krumu,  185. 

Kshatriyas,  232. 

Ktesias,  on  the  justice  of  the  Indians, 
72. 

Ktisis,  223. 

Kubha,  185. 

Kullavagga,  quotation  from  the,  96. 

Ivuenen,  Professor,  on  worship  of  Yah- 
weh,  272. 


L. 

Ladak,  192. 

Lakshmana,  86. 

Lares  familiares  in  Rome,  240. 

Lassen,  151. 

Law'  books  of  India,  30. 

Life,  Indian  and  European  views  of, 
121  ; beautiful  sentiments  of,  from 
Hindu  writings,  124  ; a journey,  120. 

Law  of  Nature,  263. 

Laws  of  Manu,  111. 

Liberal,  The,  Keshub  Clnmder  Sen’s 
organ,  99. 

Liberal  education,  the  elements  of,  3S. 

Lightning,  son  of  Parganya,  205. 

Literature,  written,  224. 

Litijania,  209  ; its  language,  209  ; its 
god  of  rain,  210  ; prayer  to  the  same, 
211. 

Logograpui,  223. 

Lost  Tribes,  The,  of  Israel,  159. 

Ludlow  on  village  schools  in  India,  80. 

Ludwig,  translation  of  Sanskrit  words, 
187. 

Lunar  stations,  150. 

Lunar  zodiac,  147. 


M. 

Mahabharata.  an  epic  poem,  speaks 
for  the  truth,  88  ; yet  recited,  99. 
Mahmud  of  Gazin,  72. 


m 


INDEX. 


Maine,  Sir  Henry,  65. 

Malcolm,  Sir  John,  on  the  Hindus,  55. 

Maua,  A golden,  146. 

Ma.ua  v as,  The  laws  of,  on  evil-doers, 
93. 

Mangaia,  170. 

Manning,  Judge,  173. 

Manu,  his  code  of  laws.  30;  their  true 
age.  111 ; his  connection  with  the  del- 
uge, 155. 

Manuscripts,  the  first  collectors  of, 
234. 

Maori  Genesis,  173. 

Maruts,  the  storm-gods,  199. 

Maui,  son  of  Ru,  171 ; legend  of,  171  ; 
its  origin,  173. 

Megasthenes  on  village  life,  65;  on 
Hindu  honesty,  72. 

Melanippe,  177. 

Memory,  power  of,  232. 

Metamorphic  changes  in  religions,  128. 

Mill,  History  of  India,  59  ; estimate  of 
Hindu  character,  60. 

Mina,  its  weight,  125. 

Mitra,  156  ; invoked,  215. 

Modern  Sanskrit  literature,  107. 

Mohammedans,  their  opinion  of  the 
Hindus,  75  ; the  number  of  sects,  76  ; 
treatment  of  Hindus,  90. 

Monotheism  in  the  Veda,  164. 

Morality,  our,  Saxon,  38. 

Moral  depravity  in  India.  93. 

Munro,  Thomas,  Sir,  opinion  of  Hin- 
dus, 61. 

Muller,  Max,  his  teachers,  45  ; inter- 
course with  Hindus,  81 ; opinion  of 
their  character,  82. 


N. 

Nakshatras,  The  twenty-seven,  148. 
Nakta  and  Nyx,  201. 

Nala.  110. 

Native  scholars,  81. 

Nearchus.  225. 

New  and  Full-Moon  Sacrifices.  252. 
New  Testament.  Revised  Edition,  141. 
Newspapers,  Sanskrit.  98. 

Nine  gems  or  classics,  115. 

Northern  conquerors,  106. 

Numerals  in  Sanskrit,  46. 


O. 

Oath,  Taking  an,  in  village  communi- 
ties, 68  ; its  understanding  by  the  Hin- 
dus. 69  ; fear  of  punishment  connected 
with,  70. 

Old  Testament,  140. 

Opiiir,  28. 

Orange  River,  188. 

Oriental  scholars,  names  and  works 
hardly  known,  22. 

Orissa.  96. 

Orme,  60. 

Orpheus  and  Ribhu,  201. 


Os,  oris.  44. 
Oude,  189. 
Ouranas,  213. 


P. 

Pahlavi,  translation  of  the  Pankatantra 
into,  115. 

Palestine,  33. 

Pali  dialect,  107. 

Pandits,  57  ; Professor  Wilson  on  the, 
58. 

Panini,  230. 

PaSkatantra,  114. 

Papyros,  224. 

Parganya,  202  ; hymn  to,  205  ; deriva- 
tion of  name,  207. 

Parvana  Sraddha,  260. 

Periegesis,  223. 

Periodos,  223. 

Periplus,  or  circumnavigations,  222. 
Perjury,  common  in  India,  71. 
Perrons,  thunder,  210. 

Perkuna,  212. 

Perkunas,  Lituanian  god  of  thunder, 

210. 

Perkuno,  212. 

Persians,  what  we  owe  to,  36. 
Peterseurch  Dictionary,  183. 
Phcf.nicians,  what  we  owe  to,  36  ; their 
letters,  222. 

Pinda-pitriyagSa,  251. 

Pipal  tree,  50. 

Pitris,  the  fathers,  239  ; invoked,  241. 
PitriyagSa-sacrifices,  248. 

Plato,  142. 

Pliny,  Indian  rivers  known  to,  191. 
Political  communities,  31. 
Polytheism,  the  kind  of,  in  the  Veda, 
165. 

Positivist  sentiments  of  a Brahman, 
S7. 

Primitive  man.  133. 

Prayers  for  rain,  205 ; for  the  dead, 

262. 

Prometheus  and  Pramantha,  195. 
Proto-aryan  language,  43. 

Ptolemy,  36. 

Pumice-stone,  171. 

Punjab,  the,  rivers  of  the,  183. 
Puranas,  162. 


R. 

Raghu,  86. 

Rajendralal  Mitra,  on  sacrifices,  251. 

Rama,  on  truth,  87. 

Rama  Bava,  the  anchorite,  271. 

Ramayana,  the  plot  of,  86  ; yet  recited, 
99. 

Rawlinson,  Sir  Henry,  158. 

Readers  not  numerous  in  ancient  or 
modern  times,  141. 

Recitation  of  the  old  epics  in  India, 
99. 

Religion,  its  home  in  India,  31  ; our 
debt  to  Oriental  religions,  36;  its 


INDEX. 


281 


transcendent  character,  126;  meta- 
morphic  changes  in,  128  ; began  in 
trust,  not  in  fear,  197. 

Remusat  on  the  Goths,  104. 

Renaissance  period  in  India,  110. 

Revival  of  religion  in  India,  270. 

Ribiiu  and  Orpheus,  201. 

Rig-Veda,  editions  of,  now  publishing, 
98 ; known  by  heart,  99 ; a treasure 
to  the  anthropologist,  134 ; character 
of  its  poems,  143  ; its  religion  primi- 
tive, 144  ; compliment  to  the  author 
for  his  edition  of,  163  ; the  numberof 
hymns  in,  163  ; age  of  the  oldest  man- 
uscripts, 221 ; total  number  of  words 
in,  228  ; how  transmitted,  231. 

Ringold,  Duke  of  Lituania,  209. 

Risms,  The  Vedic,  168 ; question  of 
earth’s  origin,  180  ; their  intoxicating 
beverage,  243. 

Rita,  the  third  Beyond,  263. 

Rivers,  as  deities,  182  ; hymn  to,  183  ; 
names  of,  in  India,  185. 

River  systems  of  Upper  India,  188. 

Robertson’s  Historical  Disquisitions, 
60. 

Ru,  the  sky-supporter,  170 ; his  bones, 
171  ; why  pumice-stone,  173. 

Ruckert’s  Weisheit  der  Brahmanen, 
22. 

Rudra,  the  howler,  199. 


S. 


S,  pronounced  as  h,  in  Iranic  languages, 
189. 

Sacrifices,  priestly,  148 ; daily  and 
monthly,  248. 

Saras,  invasion  of  the,  104. 

Sakuntala,  her  appeal  to  conscience, 
90. 

Sanskrit  language,  its  study  differ- 
ently appreciated,  21  ; use  of  studying, 
23 ; its  supreme  importance,  39 ; its 
antiquity,  40 ; its  family  relations,  40  ; 
its  study  ridiculed,  45  ; its  linguisitic 
influence,  46  ; its  moral  influence,  47  ; 
a dead  language,  96  ; early  dialects  of, 
96 ; still  influential,  97  ; scholars’  use 
of,  98 ; journals  in,  96  ; all  living  lan- 
guages in  India  draw  their  life  from, 
100. 

Sanskrit  literature,  human  interest 
of,  95 ; the  literature  of  India,  99  ; 
manuscripts  existing,  102;  divisions 
of,  104  ; character  of  the  ancient  and 
the  modern,  107  ; known  in  Persia, 
113;  anew  start  in, 115;  itsstudyvery 
profitable,  275. 

Satapatha  Brahmana,  91. 

Schopenhauer,  on  the  Upanishads, 

Seasons,  how  regulated,  148. 

Self-knowledge,  the  highest  goal  of 
the  Veda,  125. 

Sindhii,  the  Indus  river,  183  ; address 
to,  184  ; meaning  of,  189. 


Sleeman,  Colonel,  his  rambles  and  rec- 
ollections, 60  ; his  life  in  village  com- 
munities, 63  ; his  opinion  of  Hindus, 
67. 

Solar  myths,  216. 

Solomon’s  judgment  compared,  29. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  on  ancestor  worship, 
239  ; his  misstatement  corrected,  240. 

Sraddhas,  or  Love  Feasts,  248  ; to  the 
departed,  254  ; their  source,  257  - their 
number,  258  ; striking  resemblance, 
261. 

Sudas,  200. 

Sun,  the  central  thought  in  Aryan  my- 
thology, 216. 

Surya,  god  of  the  sun,  16S. 


T. 

Tamil,  95. 

Tane-Mahuta,  forest-god,  174. 
Taras,  the  stars,  151. 

Terrestrial  gods,  169. 

Teutonic  mythology,  166. 

Theogony,  235. 

Thorr,  166. 

Three  beyonds,  220. 

Thsin  dynasty,  152. 

Thugs,  63. 

Tortoise,  the  story  of  the,  154. 
Towers  of  Silence,  22. 

Towns,  names  of,  in  India,  189. 
Troy,  siege  of,  172. 

Truth,  root  meaning  in  Sanskrit,  82. 
Truthfulness,  a luxury,  91. 
Turanian  invasion,  104. 

Two  women  and  child,  story  of,  29. 
Tyr  and  Tin,  213. 


U. 

ITgvis,  Lithuanian,  41. 

Universities,  the  object  of  their  teach- 
ing, 19. 

Untruthfulness  of  the  Hindus,  53. 
Upanishads,  267  ; their  beauty,  273. 
Uranos  and  Varuna,  201. 

Urvasi,  110. 

Ushas  and  Eos,  202. 

Uttarapaksha,  136. 


V. 

Vaga,  183  ; as  plural,  184. 

Vaisvadeva,  offering,  249. 

Vaisya,  a,  162. 

Vak,  wife  of  Vata,  165. 

ValmJki,  the  poet,  100. 

V ARAHAMinARA,  112. 

Varuna,  156  ; hymns  to,  204. 
Vasisiitha,  on  righteousness,  93. 

Vata,  the  wind,  200  ; and  Wotan,  201. 
Veda,  their  antiquity,  101  ; silly  con- 
ceptions, 118;  religion  of,  129;  ne- 
cessary to  the  study  of  man,  133  ; 


2S2 


IXDEX. 


objections  to,  135;  native  character 
of,  159 ; lessons  of,  161  ; use  of  their 
study,  162 ; character  of  their  poetry, 
182 ; knowledge  of  God  progressive 
in,  194 ; their  hymns,  a specimen, 
205;  their  gods,"  number  of,  219; 
meaning  of  their  names.  220  ; three 
periods  in  their  literature,  234  ; three 
religions  in,  236. 

Yedic  Mythology,  its  influence,  27 ; 
contrasts,  169. 

Yeda-exi>,  267. 

Vedanta  philosophy.  2C5  ; the  present 
religion  in  India.  269  ; its  prevalence, 
270 ; commended  to  students,  271  ; its 
highest  knowledge,  273. 

Yidala,  cat,  42. 

Yielaras.  or  colleges,  the  ancient,  26. 

Yikramaditya,  110  ; his  varied  experi- 
ence, 113. 

Village  communities  in  India.  64 ; 
large  number  of,  65 ; morality  in,  67. 

Yisvarkaman,  157. 

Yyasa,  the  poet,  100. 


W. 

Warriors,  native  and  foreign, 116. 
Waters,  divers  gods  of  the.  167. 
Weasel  and  the  woman.  23. 

Wilson,  Prof.,  on  the  Hindus.  57. 
Witnesses,  three  classes  of,  69. 

Wole.  F.  A . his  questions,  221;  his 
dictnm.  223. 

Workingmen,  116. 


Worship  of  the  dead,  240. 

Wotan  and  Yata,  201. 

Writing  unknown  in  ancient  India, 
226. 


X. 

Xanthos,  the  Lydian,  223. 


Y. 

Tag.  ishta,  208. 

YagSadattabadha,  110. 
YagXavalkya,  on  virtue,  92. 

Yahweh,  worship  of,  272. 

Y a si  a , lord  of  the  departed.  85  ; on  im- 
mortality, S6  ; invoked.  242  ; as  the 
first  man,  242;  dialogue  on  death, 
267. 

Yaska,  division  of  the  ^ edic  gods.  168. 
Yueh-chi,  The,  and  the  Goths,  104. 


Z. 

Zees,  129  ; the  survivor  of  Dyaus,  213  ; 

the  interval  between.  235. 

Zeus,  Dvaus,  and  Jupiter,  19S. 

Zimmer.'  Prof.,  on  polytheism,  166; 

translation  of  Sanskrit  words,  185. 
Zodiacal  signs,  known  to  Sanskrit  as- 
tronomers. 114. 

Zodiac,  The  Bablyonian,  147. 
Zoroastrianism,  31. 


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